Chapter 9
My first thought was Michael.
I hated myself for it.
I hated him more.
“How far along?” I asked.
Mom rustled the paper.
“Twelve weeks.”
I closed my eyes.
Twelve weeks.
The kissing supposedly started eight weeks earlier.
But Michael had already lied so many times that his timeline meant nothing.
“Does the bill say anything else?”
“No.”
“Take a picture and send it to me.”
“Sarah—”
“Please.”
Thirty seconds later, the image arrived.
Lauren Marie Bennett.
Twelve-week prenatal screening.
My sister had been pregnant for three months.
And she had moved into the secret Oak Brook apartment two weeks earlier.
I felt sick.
Mom whispered, “Do you think Michael—”
“I don’t know.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“I have to go.”
“Where?”
“To find out.”
Rebecca told me not to meet Lauren alone.
So I didn’t.
I asked Marissa to come.
We drove to the Oak Brook building the next morning.
It was expensive.
New brick.
Underground parking.
Fountain by the entrance.
The building with the fountain Emma had described.
My daughter had been here.
That made my anger sharpen.
Lauren opened the door after my third knock.
Her face went white when she saw me.
Then she saw Marissa.
“Sarah.”
I pushed the hospital bill toward her.
“Is it Michael’s?”
She stared at the paper.
Her eyes filled.
“Come inside.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“Answer me.”
She looked down the hallway.
Then she whispered, “I don’t know.”
My chest tightened so violently I had to grip the doorframe.
Marissa moved closer to me.
I kept my eyes on Lauren.
“How can you not know?”
“Because there’s another possibility.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course there is.”
“Sarah, please come inside.”
I stepped into the apartment.
Marissa followed.
The place was fully furnished.
A man’s jacket hung over a chair.
Michael’s jacket.
I recognized it immediately.
I picked it up.
Lauren started speaking quickly.
“He left that here after helping me move.”
“Did he sleep here?”
“No.”
“Did you sleep with him?”
Lauren began crying.
“Once.”
The room went silent.
All the technical denials.
All the careful language.
All the “emotional affair” nonsense.
Once.
I folded Michael’s jacket over the chair.
I wanted to scream.
Instead my voice came out calm.
“When?”
“Thirteen weeks ago.”
My stomach dropped.
Before she claimed the kissing started.
Before the pregnancy.
“Did he know you might be pregnant?”
“Yes.”
I looked away.
Marissa muttered something under her breath.
Lauren reached toward me.
I stepped back.
“Don’t.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t get to keep saying that.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
My voice finally broke.
“You came to my house. You ate dinner with my child. You hugged me. Then you met my husband.”
She sobbed.
“It wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“You kept meeting him afterward.”
“Because of Diane.”
“Stop blaming Diane for everything.”
“I’m not.”
“Yes, you are.”
I pointed toward the apartment.
“You moved into a place he paid for.”
“I pay part of it.”
“With money from Raymond Pike?”
Her face changed.
Marissa and I exchanged a look.
I stepped closer.
“What do you do for Raymond?”
Lauren wiped her face.
“Consulting.”
“What kind?”
“Property files.”
“Mine?”
Silence.
“Did you access my credit?”
“No.”
“Did you give Raymond information about my lake property?”
“I didn’t know what he planned to do.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
She sat down.
“I gave him the parcel number.”
My hands curled.
“Why?”
“Michael asked me.”
I felt something inside me finally break cleanly.
Not shatter.
Break.
Like a rope snapping.
The desperate part of me that still wanted an explanation capable of saving my marriage disappeared.
“Is the baby his?”
Lauren covered her face.
“I don’t know.”
“Who is the other man?”
She hesitated.
“Raymond.”
I stared at her.
Marissa actually stepped backward.
“You’re sleeping with Raymond too?”
Lauren cried harder.
“He and I were together first.”
“Does Michael know?”
“No.”
I laughed.
For the first time in two days, I genuinely laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because the lies had become absurd.
My sister had been sleeping with the man helping my husband investigate my property while also sleeping with my husband.
“And you thought you were helping Diane?”
“At first.”
“What changed?”
“Raymond told me Diane’s debts were worse than Michael knew.”
“How much worse?”
“I don’t know.”
“What does Raymond want with my property?”
Lauren looked toward the window.
“Security.”
“For what?”
“A loan.”
“To Diane?”
She nodded.
“How much?”
“Six hundred thousand.”
My heart hammered.
“So the attempted mortgage on my house wasn’t enough.”
“No.”
“They wanted my lake property too.”
Lauren cried.
“I told Michael it was wrong.”
“Before or after you gave them the parcel number?”
She looked down.
I turned toward the door.
“Sarah.”
I stopped.
Lauren’s voice shook.
“I have something you need.”
I faced her.
She walked to a kitchen drawer and pulled out a flash drive.
“Raymond keeps records.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Why do you have that?”
“I copied files from his computer.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Why?”
“Because I realized he was setting Michael up to take the blame if everything collapsed.”
I took the drive but didn’t put it in my computer.
“What’s on it?”
“Emails. Loan applications. Transfers.”
“Anything about me?”
“Yes.”
“Anything about Diane?”
“Yes.”
“Anything about you?”
Her face crumpled.
“Yes.”
I nodded.
At least that answer was honest.
Then Lauren whispered, “There’s something else.”
I almost smiled from exhaustion.
“What now?”
“Raymond has Richard’s ledger.”
I froze.
“How?”
“Diane gave it to him.”
“Why?”
“To prove the family had collateral.”
I stared at her.
“What collateral?”
Lauren’s voice dropped.
“Not property.”
May you like
I waited.
“Secrets.”
