Chapter 3 She's Gone

No one would have known if I hadn't stumbled upon their chat logs.

A specific call record stood out-Bernard had phoned the young intern the day she died, and they talked for nearly an hour. What could they have discussed for so long? Matching the timeline, I realized the call occurred less than an hour before she drowned herself in the lake.

It was undeniable. Bernard had summoned her there, and not long after, she had taken her own life.

But Bernard hadn't mentioned any of this to the police. Why? Was there something darker he was hiding?

I had always believed Bernard to be a man of integrity-law-abiding, honest, and incapable of wrongdoing.

But perhaps my perception had been flawed all along-maybe Bernard had only ever shown me the version of himself he wanted me to see.

I never imagined him capable of infidelity, yet it had happened.

Now, even I couldn't vouch for who he truly was. Worse still, I couldn't shake the growing sense that something wasn't right.

Since the intern's death, Bernard's behavior had shifted. The man who had once screamed and blamed me was now regretful and apologetic, begging for forgiveness at my doorstep for days on end.

His demeanor was so drastically different that I couldn't help but question his motives.

Taking advantage of the leave granted by my company, I decided to investigate.

As time passed, the furor over the intern's death began to subside. The online mob grew quieter, and Bernard stopped coming to my door. He had returned to work but continued flooding my phone with messages, pleading for forgiveness and reconciliation.

I felt an invisible wall growing between Bernard and me-a chasm that widened with every passing day.

I tried to entertain the idea of forgiving him, but the thought felt unfair to me. Something about him didn't sit right; I couldn't shake the feeling that Bernard was still hiding something.

For now, I kept him at arm's length, neither rejecting nor accepting his pleas for reconciliation.

Time, as they said, was a healer, and gradually, the public frenzy over the intern's suicide began to die down. Even the online backlash against me had softened, giving me a much-needed reprieve and the opportunity to act without constant scrutiny.

After filing for divorce, I packed Bernard's belongings and told him to leave. With him out of the house, I could move freely, investigate without worrying about him watching my every move.

I began my search at the lake where the intern had taken her life. Visiting each store around the area, I inquired about their security cameras and painstakingly reviewed the footage.

In the clips, she was always alone. Yet, she was on her phone, visibly arguing with someone. Her face flushed with anger, her expression twisted with frustration-it was clear she had been in a heated conversation.

It only strengthened my suspicion: Bernard had been on the other end of that call. But what could they have argued about that drove her to such an extreme?

I scoured most of the businesses around the lake, watching hours of footage. Each time, I found the same: she was by herself.

As the day wore on and the sky darkened, my hope began to wane.

I'd spent hours walking from place to place, my legs aching and my eyes dry from staring at too many screens. Fatigue set in, pressing down on me like a weight, both physically and emotionally.

I started questioning myself: Was I being paranoid? Was Bernard truly innocent this time? Maybe he hadn't even been here.

The lake was vast, its surroundings dotted with small convenience stores and wholesalers.

As dusk settled in, many couples strolled hand in hand.

For a moment, envy washed over me. If that day had never happened, would Bernard and I have been one of those couples?

Taking a deep breath, I pushed down the sadness welling up inside me and walked into the next store.

I couldn't let uncertainty push me into reconciling with Bernard-not until I knew the full truth.

Time was slipping away. The longer I waited, the more traces of what had happened would disappear.

At the store, I explained my purpose once again, negotiating access to their footage. Each interaction drained more from me-emotionally and financially. My wallet grew lighter with every attempt, but the truth was worth any cost.