Let me back up.

My name is Bethany. Bethany Burton. I’m 32 years old, and for the past eight months, I’ve been lying to the man I love. Not about the big things. Not about my feelings, or my loyalty, or the way my heart races when he walks into a room. I’ve been lying about something most people would consider a good thing.

I’ve been hiding my success.

See, I’m not actually a struggling single mother who works part-time doing paperwork at a dental office. That’s just the character I’ve been playing. The truth is, I’m a senior dental prosthetist at Preston and Moore Dental Lab, one of the most respected labs in the city.

I’m the person who creates the crowns, veneers, bridges, and dentures that dentists put in their patients’ mouths—the precision work, the artistry, the stuff that takes years to master and most people never even think about. When a dentist in this city needs something perfect—and I mean perfect, down to the micrometer—they request me by name.

I’ve spent eight years building that reputation. Doctors literally argue over whose cases I’ll prioritize.

I’m also four months away from finishing dental school, a part-time evening program I’ve been grinding through for two and a half years while working full-time. Soon I’ll be Dr. Bethany Burton. And my salary—$17,500 a month, sometimes more with bonuses.