Chapter 3

The calm didn' t last.

A few days later, Mark came home excited from a charity auction.

"I got something amazing," he said, his eyes shining.

He described a stunning designer necklace, diamonds and sapphires.

I' d seen it in the auction catalog. My heart did a little flip.

For me? After Chloe' s visit, a grand gesture?

He didn' t give it to me that night.

A week later, I saw it.

On Chloe Davis' s Instagram page.

She was at an art gallery opening, the necklace sparkling against her black dress.

The caption: "Feeling like a queen. Thank you, M."

M. Mark.

When I asked him, my voice carefully neutral, he looked flustered.

"Oh, that. My mother wanted it. She collects pieces by that designer."

His mother, who lived in Florida and rarely wore jewelry more extravagant than her wedding ring.

It was a clumsy lie.

Then there was Leo.

He was usually so reserved with strangers, quiet and watchful.

But with Chloe, he was a different child.

Open, affectionate, like he' d known her all his life.

"Chloe rescued him from a little scare at the playground once, a long time ago," Mark explained when I pointed it out. "Before you and I... well, before. He' s always had a soft spot for her."

A long time ago. How long?

He made it sound casual, but it felt like another piece of a puzzle I didn' t have the picture for.

The unease grew, coiling tighter in my chest.

One afternoon, I was in the kitchen. I heard Mark on the phone in his study, the door slightly ajar.

His voice was low, intimate.

"Yeah, same time tomorrow? Leo' s really looking forward to it."

A pause.

"Me too. Your studio is... inspiring."

Daily visits. To Chloe' s art studio.

Secret visits.

He ended the call quickly when he heard me approach.

"Just a work thing," he said, avoiding my eyes.

My perfect life was cracking, and I could see the darkness seeping through.

The past I thought I knew was shifting, rearranging itself into something ugly.