Deep green cabinets.
A huge farmhouse sink beneath a window.
I stopped moving.
My grandmother’s kitchen had green cabinets.
Not exactly those.
But close.
Too close.
I stepped toward the opening.
“Elena.”
I lifted my phone.
“Just pictures.”
“This is someone’s private property.”
“Apparently my husband’s private property.”
I photographed the kitchen.
The hallway.
Several unopened furniture boxes.
Then I saw writing on a piece of painter’s tape attached to an upstairs door.
I zoomed in.
SOPHIE — BEDROOM
My breath left me.
Tessa saw it too.
“Oh, God.”
I lowered the phone.
It was real.
Marcus wasn’t merely investing money.
He was preparing a home.
A home with a bedroom specifically planned for his daughter.
A family home.
Just not one he’d told his wife about.
I took one step backward.
A motion light snapped on.
Then an alarm began screaming.
Tessa grabbed my arm.
“We’re leaving.”
Headlights appeared at the end of the driveway.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
A security vehicle arrived first.
Behind it was a black pickup.
Marcus’s pickup.
“No,” I whispered.
The truck stopped hard.
Marcus jumped out.
“Elena?”
He looked genuinely stunned.
Then another vehicle pulled in.
Camille.
Of course.
Marcus walked toward me.
“What are you doing here?”
The absurdity of the question almost made me laugh.
“What am I doing here?”
He glanced at Tessa, then at my phone.
“You followed me?”
I stepped toward him.
“One hundred seventy-six thousand dollars.”
His expression changed.
I continued.
“Eighteen-five. Twenty-four. Thirty-one-two. Sixteen-seven-fifty. Should I keep going?”
Marcus went pale.
“You looked at the company accounts.”
“I saved that company.”
“Elena—”
“You told me it was still struggling.”
“It was—”
“No. It recovered months ago.”
Camille had climbed out of her car.
She looked confused.
Marcus said, “Please let me explain.”
I pointed toward Camille.
“Explain her.”
Camille’s eyebrows rose.
“Me?”
“Yes, you.”
“Elena,” Marcus said sharply.
“No. I watched you pick her up. I watched you disappear into this house with her for hours. I watched her hug you.”
Camille stared at Marcus.
Then at me.
And suddenly something dawned on her face.
“Oh.”
That single syllable infuriated me.
“Oh?”
She covered her mouth.
“You think Marcus and I are—”
“Don’t insult me by pretending the thought is ridiculous.”
“It is ridiculous,” she said. “I’m married.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Congratulations.”
“My wife is named Dana.”
