“You might have.”
“Felicia!”
“I’m not going to lie to calm you down.”
That was why she was my best friend.
Then she said:
“You might also be holding evidence of something completely harmless that looks terrible without context.”
“Name one harmless thing involving a secret woman and a five-figure jewelry receipt.”
“I cannot.”
“Exactly.”
None.
“But I am not married to Callum, and neither are you to my imagination.”
She paused.
“Ask.”
“Not accuse?”
“Ask.”
PART 4 — THE LETTER R
We tried names.
Rachel?
No Rachel.
Rebecca?
None.
Renee?
Nobody Callum knew closely.
Rose?
No.
Then Felicia asked:
“Could R be older?”
“What does that mean?
“Your parents’ generation.
Family friend?”
“Callum’s mom is Beth.”
“Sister?”
“Kayla.”
“Coworker?”
“No R I know.”
“Ex?”
“He hasn’t spoken to an ex in years.”
“You know that?”
“Yes.”
She paused.
“Okay.”
Then:
“What kind of key?”
I examined it.
“Tiny.”
“Suitcase?”
“Smaller.”
“Jewelry box?”
“Maybe.”
“Safe-deposit box?”
That made my chest tighten.
A hidden box.
“
A jeweler.
A woman.
Fantastic.
My brain had everything it needed to produce catastrophe.
PART 5 — THE FIRST LIE OF OUR MARRIAGE
I returned to the suite.
Callum was awake.
Messy hair.
Sleepy smile.
“There you are.”
