Page 39 of Hidden While In Sight

Hannah sang to her kids as she put them to sleep that night. Diego didn’t know shit about lullabies, and it sure as hell didn’t soothe him. The melody wove between his ribs, splintering his chest. Her soft voice was so fucking happy.

He really was an asshole for wanting to ruin that.

Chapter 19

Diego turned off another monitor, covering it with Bubble Wrap. That left the last two. One was in Connor’s room, where Hannah had let the children snuggle down for their nap together. Emma had already fallen asleep, hugging her current favorite toy, the stuffed purple dinosaur she’d gotten at the museum. Connor’s eyelids continued to fight to stay awake as Hannah read the book he’d chosen in her monotone voice.

The last camera was the one in the den. Diego had watched Hannah through that camera the most, more than the one on her vanity, and the den didn’t hold the memory of how it’d felt to be buried inside her.

He’d already transferred all the feeds to his phone. He wouldn’t be cut off from seeing her completely. Not unless she moved.

And he could always find her.

Hannah kissed her son’s forehead, dimming the light as she left the room but not turning it off. Emma was scared of the dark.

Diego’s eyes traced over the kids before he turned off the monitor. He reached for the Bubble Wrap, turning back to the monitor as Hannah entered the den.

She still had that half smile on her face, with a hint of dimple. Her eyes landed on the replacement Bible he’d purchased for her, the one she’d never cracked open, and her smile faded.

She didn’t love him. It wasn’t just that she was married. Hannah never looked at his gift with the joy he’d tricked himself into believing he’d seen.

He expected her to cross to her damaged Bible like usual, pulling it from the shelf to read.

Diego had always known she enjoyed her time in the den. Maybe that’s why he liked watching her there the most. Reading in the den was the one part of her day she’d maintained. While the children napped, she would read God’s word from the version of the book that didn’t remind her of her sin.

He froze as she approached the pristine Bible, the one he’d bought for her. Her fingers drifted along its spine, and the sensation crawled across Diego’s neck. When she lifted his gift and took it to the couch to read, Diego’s legs gave out, and he sank into the desk chair.

It didn’t change anything. He still couldn’t go to her.

But the ice inside his chest no longer suffocated him.

He closed his eyes, and for the first time in his life, he tried talking to God. He prayed for Hannah to be happy.

When his eyes opened, they latched onto Hannah like always. He’d watch her until she left the room. No way in hell would he turn off the monitor while she was there.

He missed the shadow in the doorway. Missed it until Ashford was on her.

Diego had let himself forget: if God existed, he was a cruel bastard.

Hannah cried out as her head hit the table, and she went limp, her husband on top of her, squeezing her neck.

Diego tripped over the goddamn rolling chair in his panic, kicking it away as he scrambled for the door. He ran. He ran to her so fucking fast, but it felt like he was standing still.

Diego had often daydreamed about how he would kill her husband. Of how Ashford would beg and scream and bleed. Of how he’d make the asshole feel the same pain he’d inflicted on his wife.

When he snapped his neck, it happened so quickly that Ashford never even realized he was there. His body slumped over hers, and Diego shoved it away, his hands shaking as he cupped both sides of her face.

“Hannah?” he called softly, his voice breaking.

Blood dripped down her temple, sliding between her closed eyes.

Her eyes weren’t open and empty. She didn’t have dead eyes. He couldn’t see her eyes at all because she wouldn’t open them.

Diego fumbled with his phone, unable to pull his other hand away from her face.

Ramiro answered. “I’m already—”

“She’s hurt. She hit her head. She’s hurt, not dead. She can’t be dead!” Diego couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t fucking breathe as he stared at that dripping blood.

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