She didn’t even flinch. “It went well. Long night, though. I’m exhausted.”
“Where was it held?” I asked.
I looked up from my plate. “That’s funny. I drove by there last night. Didn’t see your car.”
Her hand froze around her coffee cup. “You… drove by?”
“Yeah,” I said evenly. “Guess I missed you.”
For a moment, her mask slipped — I saw fear flash across her eyes before she forced a smile. “I parked around the corner. You know how crowded it gets.”
I nodded, pretending to accept it, but I could feel her unease. She knew I didn’t believe her.
—
That night, after she went to bed, I went through her phone. I’d never done that before — it felt invasive, wrong — but the truth mattered more than my guilt.
Her phone was clean. Too clean. No messages, no calls, no photos except for family ones. Almost as if she’d deleted everything.Continue reading…
