“So you wrote under pseudonyms.” She nodded slowly. “I wrote under four new names until I could buy him out—which I did.” She was proud of that part. She’d worked twelve hours a day, seven days a week, for nine months straight, but she’d done it. “In the end, he got my house and my savings and my best friend—did I mention that part?” Maggie laughed to keep from crying. “But I got to keep . . . myself.” “You got the best part,” Ethan said without missing a beat. “You got the only thing that matters. Tell me you know that.”
