CHAPTER 1 - BEFORE THE CRACKS APPEARED
1356 Words
The world had a way of making Mara believe she was safe.
It threaded soft illusions into her days, tucking comfort into the corners of her life like a mother smoothing a blanket over a sleeping child. And Mara—gentle, hopeful Mara—let herself believe it. Why wouldn’t she? Safety was a story she’d longed for her whole life, and when it finally arrived wrapped in sunlight and a man’s steady laugh, she held it close the way others held religion.
On most days, she woke up in a life that felt like a favorite novel — predictable in the best ways, warm in all the corners that mattered, and filled with ordinary moments she thought she’d keep forever. A life that asked for nothing more than to be lived.
This morning was no different.
Gabriel moved around the kitchen humming a tune she didn’t recognize, a low, lazy melody that made the morning feel softer than it was. He was still half-asleep, still clumsy in that boyish way she found too endearing for her own good. Mara watched him from the dining table, the warmth of her coffee seeping into her palms, anchoring her to the simplicity of the moment.
“You’re up early,” she said, raising a brow.
He turned, flashing that grin — the grin strangers found charming, acquaintances found enviable, and she once found disarming enough to fall in love with. The kind of grin that made people believe he could never lie.
“Trying to be productive.” He held up a frying pan like a trophy. “Breakfast, my love. Today, it’s my turn.”
“That pan is upside down,” Mara laughed.
Gabriel blinked at it, flipped it the right way, and said, “A great architect sees possibility even when things are inverted.”
“You’re ridiculous,” she said.
“And you love it,” he countered.
She did. Or at least, she thought she did. Love had always been easy with Gabriel — too easy, in hindsight. Like a story written in pencil: beautiful in its softness, but vulnerable to smudging with the slightest wrong touch.
Their mornings were always like this — soft banter, sunlight spilling through the blinds, and the quiet comfort of routine. A rhythm she trusted. A rhythm she never questioned.
Her phone buzzed on the table.
Lian.
LIAN: Good morning, Queen! Lunch later? I miss my favorite girl 😘✨
Mara smiled.
Lian — her best friend in all the ways that mattered. Lian who held her hand when her father died. Lian who learned her coffee order by heart. Lian who shared her popcorn during sleepovers, cried with her during college heartbreaks. Lian who made her bachelorette party a week-long event of barely-legal chaos, and screamed backstage during her wedding like she was the one getting married. Lian who swore, with drunken sincerity, that she would protect Mara from anything that could break her. Of all the people in her life, Lian was the one she trusted the most.
Mara typed back:
MARA: Sure! I’ll text you when I’m out of my morning meeting.
The reply came instantly, like always.
LIAN: Love u Queen 💖
Mara shook her head fondly. “Lian messaged,” she told Gabriel.
“Tell her I say hi,” he said, plating the eggs. His back was turned to her, but there was a faint, unreadable smile on his face.
She didn’t think much of it. Why would she?
This was the man she married, and that was her best friend. There was no reason to suspect that two people she loved could ever hold hands behind her back while smiling at her with clean faces.
Who imagines that the people meant to protect your heart would one day become the hands that crush it? No one ever suspects the sun of burning you. Not until your skin blisters under the brightness.
At 8:00 A.M., Mara headed to work. Her office — a consultancy firm dealing with cultural preservation projects — was the one place she felt completely in control. She walked through the glass doors wearing tailored slacks, a pale blue blouse, and a quiet confidence that made younger interns sit up straighter.
Her colleague, Sofia, waved. “Mara! Wow, you’re looking extra pretty today.”
“Don’t hype me like that,” Mara laughed. “I’ll start believing you. I’m old for that kind of compliment so stop.”
“What? It’s true! Old enough to look pretty expensive,” Sofia teased. “And young enough to torture all of us with your perfect marriage.”
Mara rolled her eyes but smiled.
Perfect marriage. Perfect life. Perfect everything.
Or so the world thought. Mara felt something inside her shift—just slightly. Not enough to break anything, just enough to feel the faintest tremor beneath her ribs. A quiet question she ignored.
Her boss later called her into the conference room to discuss a potential restoration project — a Spanish-era house, collapsing but salvageable.
As they talked timelines and preservation methods, Mara felt the familiar thrill she always felt when discussing history — the bones of old buildings, the stories hidden beneath the dust, the way every ruin carried a memory.
“Ms. Valdez,” her boss said, “you really come alive when you talk about restoration.”
“I like saving things,” Mara replied softly. “Especially things that are beautiful but fragile.”
If fate were kinder, it would have stopped her there. But fate listens selectively.
But fate has its own rules. And heartbreak has its own schedule.
Lunch with Lian was at their favorite café — a pocket of nostalgia with warm lights and mismatched chairs, the place where they once scared a barista by laughing so hard they choked on their drinks. A place built from years of memories and inside jokes.
Mara arrived first. Lian entered minutes later, sunlight catching the edge of her hair like a halo sharpened into a blade.
“Queen!” She hugged Mara tightly. “I missed you, swear.”
“You saw me last week,” Mara chuckled.
“Still! I miss you every day.” Lian said, dramatically clutching her chest as if her heart was physically breaking, her lower lip trembling in an exaggerated pout.
They sat.
Lian talked about her new clients, her workout routine, a t****k she wanted Mara to recreate with her. She filled the room with noise and brightness — a habit she developed to hide the quieter parts of herself.
But for the first time, Mara noticed something off.
Lian’s hands trembled when she stirred her iced latte. She looked away too quickly when Mara asked, “You okay?”
“I’m fine! I’m just overworked, that’s all,” Lian insisted, waving her hand. “Hey, look — I got a new shade of lipstick. Gabriel would totally say it looks good on me.”
Mara blinked. Smiled faintly. Let it pass.
One comment is nothing.
Until it becomes the first stitch in a truth you never wanted sewn.
Later that evening, Mara returned home exhausted. Gabriel wasn’t there yet — a normal occurrence.
She changed into soft clothing, tied her hair in a loose bun, and began folding laundry while humming Lian’s earlier joke.
Her phone lit up.
Unknown number. One attachment. A video.
Mara frowned. Probably spam. Probably a mistake. Probably nothing.
She tapped the notification.
Just one movement of her finger — so small, so harmless — and the world she loved folded in on itself. Because the moment before a heart breaks… is the last moment it will ever feel whole.
And Mara, poor Mara, didn’t know that pressing play would end the life she thought was safe.
Didn’t know she was seconds away from losing the version of herself that trusted too easily.
Didn’t know she was about to meet the kind of truth that doesn’t wound — it ruins.
- Writer
