Chapter 2
The air in the kitchen turned thick enough to cut.
I stared at the key in Diane's hand.
Small. Brass. Ordinary looking.
But it felt like a loaded weapon.
"Give me that key," I said.
Diane's lips curled into that cold smile again.
"Or what? You'll slap me again?"
Noah squeezed my hand tighter.
I could feel his heart racing through his palm.
"Mom, I'm scared," he whispered.
I knelt down in front of him, never taking my eyes off Diane.
"It's okay, baby. Go to your room. Lock the door."
"But Mom—"
"Now, Noah. Please."
He hesitated, then ran down the hallway.
I heard his bedroom door click shut.
The lock turned.
I stood back up.
Diane was still standing there, twisting the key between her fingers.
"You have no idea what you've started, Sarah," she said.
"Give me the key, Diane. I'm not asking again."
She laughed.
A dry, humorless sound.
"You think this is just about a key?"
She stepped closer.
I could smell her expensive perfume.
Chanel No. 5.
Ryan always said it was his mother's signature scent.
Right now, it smelled like deception.
"That office," Diane said, "holds more secrets than you could possibly imagine."
My heart hammered against my ribs.
"What did you do, Diane? What's in there?"
She tilted her head.
"Ask Ryan when he calls."
"I will. And when he hears what you've been doing—"
"He already knows."
The words hit me like a physical blow.
I stumbled back.
"What?"
Diane nodded slowly.
"He gave me that key, Sarah. Before he left. He told me to check on things. To make sure nothing was... disturbed."
I couldn't breathe.
Ryan had told me the office was locked because he had confidential work files inside.
He'd said even I shouldn't go in there.
That he'd clean it when he got back.
"You're lying," I said.
"Am I?"
Diane reached into her purse again.
She pulled out her phone.
Tapped the screen.
Held it up.
A photo appeared.
Ryan.
Standing right here in our kitchen.
Handing that very same key to Diane.
The timestamp on the photo read three weeks ago.
The day Ryan left for his "business trip."
My legs felt weak.
I grabbed the kitchen counter to steady myself.
"Why?" I whispered.
"Why would he do that?"
Diane slipped her phone back into her purse.
"Because he knew you'd start asking questions eventually."
"Questions about what?"
She smiled.
"That's for you to find out. Or maybe not. Maybe it's better if you just keep being the good little wife you've always been."
She started walking toward the front door.
"I'll be back tomorrow," she said over her shoulder.
"Don't try to go into that office, Sarah. You won't like what you find."
She opened the door.
Stepped outside.
Closed it softly behind her.
I stood there in the silence.
The kitchen floor was still wet from Noah's scrubbing.
The bucket of dirty water sat in the middle of the room.
I felt like I was going to be sick.
I pulled out my phone.
Called Ryan.
It rang.
And rang.
And rang.
Straight to voicemail.
"Hey, it's Ryan. Leave a message."
His voice sounded so normal.
So cheerful.
Like he didn't have a care in the world.
I hung up without speaking.
I looked down the hallway toward the office.
The door was closed.
Locked.
Just like Ryan had left it.
Or so I thought.
I walked toward it.
My heart was pounding so loud I could hear it in my ears.
I stood in front of the door.
The wood was warm from the afternoon sun.
I reached out.
Touched the doorknob.
Cold.
Solid.
Locked.
Noah had said Diane goes in there every night after I fall asleep.
Every night.
For three weeks.
What could possibly be so important that Ryan would give his mother a key?
And tell her to go in while I slept?
I thought about the photo.
Ryan handing Diane the key.
He'd planned this.
Before he left.
He'd known.
Known what?
I turned and walked to Noah's room.
Knocked softly.
"Noah? It's Mom. Can I come in?"
The lock clicked.
The door opened just a crack.
Noah's big brown eyes looked up at me.
Red and puffy.
"Is Grandma gone?"
"Yeah, baby. She's gone."
I pushed the door open and sat on his bed.
He climbed into my lap.
Wrapped his arms around my neck.
I held him tight.
"I'm sorry you had to go through that," I said.
"I didn't do anything wrong, Mom. I cleaned my room this morning. I swear."
"I believe you, Noah. I believe you."
He pulled back to look at me.
"Mom? Why does Grandma have a key to Dad's office?"
I didn't know how to answer.
"I don't know yet, baby. But I'm going to find out."
"She told me not to tell you," he whispered.
"Said if I did, Dad would be mad at me."
My blood ran cold.
"She threatened you?"
Noah nodded slowly.
"She said... she said Dad might not come home if I told you about the key."
I held him tighter.
"That's not true, Noah. Dad is coming home. And nobody is going to hurt you. I promise."
But even as I said the words, I didn't believe them.
Something was very wrong.
My husband was hiding something.
His mother was helping him.
And my son had been caught in the middle.
I kissed Noah's forehead.
"Do you want to tell me what else Grandma does when she goes into Dad's office?"
Noah hesitated.
Then he nodded.
"She turns on the computer," he said.
"And she talks on the phone. Sometimes she yells. Once I heard her say, 'She can't find out. Not yet.'"
"She? Who is she?"
Noah shrugged.
"I don't know. But she sounds scared, Mom. Grandma sounds scared when she talks."
That made no sense.
Diane was never scared of anything.
She was the one who scared people.
"Is there anything else?" I asked.
Noah thought for a moment.
"Once... once I saw her carry a big envelope out of there. She put it in her purse and left the house. She was gone for a long time."
An envelope.
What was in it?
Money?
Documents?
Something else?
"Okay, Noah. Thank you for telling me. You've been very brave."
He rested his head on my shoulder.
"Mom? Is Dad in trouble?"
I stroked his hair.
"I don't know, baby. But I'm going to make sure everything is okay."
I stayed with him until he fell asleep.
Then I quietly left his room.
I stood in the hallway again.
Staring at the office door.
I needed to get inside.
But how?
I didn't have a key.
And Diane had taken hers with her.
I thought about calling a locksmith.
But that would leave evidence.
And if Ryan found out...
If Diane was right and he already knew...
Then maybe I needed to be smarter about this.
I walked back to the kitchen.
Cleaned up the bucket and the rag.
Wiped the floor myself.
My hands were shaking the whole time.
I made dinner.
A simple pasta dish.
But I couldn't eat.
I sat at the table, staring at the food growing cold.
My phone buzzed.
I jumped.
Grabbed it.
Ryan's name flashed on the screen.
My thumb hovered over the answer button.
Should I confront him?
Or should I play dumb?
I took a deep breath.
Answered.
"Hey, Sarah. Sorry I missed your call earlier. Crazy day at the conference."
His voice sounded the same.
Warm.
Loving.
Like the man I'd married.
But now I knew better.
"That's okay," I said.
My voice sounded steady.
I was proud of myself.
"How's everything at home?" he asked.
"Fine. Noah's good. He had a big math test today. Thinks he aced it."
"That's my boy. And Diane? She's been helping out, right?"
There it was.
The question.
Testing me.
"Yeah," I said.
"She's been... helpful."
"Good. I'm glad. Listen, Sarah, I might be staying a few extra days. The client wants to go over some more details."
A few extra days.
Or was he with someone else?
Somewhere else?
"Okay," I said.
"Just... be safe."
"Always am. I love you, Sarah."
"I love you too, Ryan."
I hung up.
Tossed my phone on the table.
He'd lied.
Right to my face.
And I'd let him.
Because I needed time.
I needed to find out what was really going on.
I stood up.
Walked to the hallway closet.
Found a hammer and a flathead screwdriver.
I carried them to the office door.
May you like
I was going to get inside.
No matter what.
