My seven-year-old son crawled into my bed, shaking, and whispered that his father had a girlfriend—and planned to take all my money when I left. I quietly canceled my train, opened the notary’s envelope, and discovered the betrayal went far deeper than my bank account.

thirty-eight.”

Marc nodded calmly.

“Perfect.”

That single word chilled her more than shouting would have.

Later that afternoon, she called Claire Bellanger, an old university friend who had become a lawyer.

After reading the documents, Claire went silent for several seconds.

“Camille,” she finally said carefully, “this is serious.”

“How serious?”

“With powers continue reading …