I woke up in a hospital bed to find my husband holding his mistress's hand—while detectives informed me that my fingerprints were on the gasoline can that started the fire in our nursery. Sienna stood there with tears streaming down her face, playing the victim so convincingly that even Damian believed I tried to burn down our home. But I know what I saw: her smile as she poured the gasoline, the match in her hand, the cold calculation in her eyes before the flames erupted. Now I'm handcuffed to a hospital bed, arrested for arson and attempted murder, while she rests her hand on her stomach and announces she's carrying my husband's child. The only question is whether I can prove the truth before she destroys everything I have left—including my freedom.