Chapter 4

At seven in the morning, David came back.

He'd changed his clothes, and there was something in his expression I couldn't quite read.

If it were yesterday, I probably would've thought he was tired.

But today, every look on his face felt like I was looking at a stranger.

"What time did you finish working last night?" I asked, keeping my tone casual.

"Around four or five. I crashed on the office couch for a bit," he replied.

When he lied, his eyes would always shift up to the left.

I never noticed that before. But now, I did.

"What do you want for breakfast? I'll make it," I said.

"Anything's fine. I'm not really hungry," he replied.

He then walked into the bedroom and closed the door.

I stood in the kitchen, spatula in hand, and suddenly thought this was ridiculous.

I was making breakfast for someone who was plotting against me.

But I couldn't let him catch on, at least not right now.

I needed time to gather more evidence.

I needed to get myself a lawyer and think through every step.

So, I forced a smile and carried a plate of sandwiches into the bedroom. "Come on, eat something. Don't skip breakfast."

He grunted, not bothering to look at me.

As I turned to leave, I paused for a second at the doorway.

With my back to him, my smile vanished. In its place was a calmness that felt totally unfamiliar, even to me.

At nine in the morning, after dropping Daphne off at kindergarten, I did the first thing on my list.

I called Rachel Smith, my college friend.

Rachel was a lawyer who handled family law and divorce cases.

We were really close in college, but after I married David, we barely kept in touch.

David never liked me keeping up with my friends. "Why do you waste your time talking to those people all day?"

I couldn't believe I actually went along with it.

For five years, I'd pretty much cut myself off from everyone.

The phone rang three times before Rachel picked up.

"Rebecca?" she said, sounding surprised. "Oh my god, you actually called me. How long has it been since we last talked?"

"Rachel, I need your help." My voice was calmer than I expected.

"What's wrong?" Her tone turned serious right away.

"My husband's cheating on me. He's moving money and getting ready to divorce me. I need a lawyer."

There were a few seconds of silence on the line before she asked, "Where are you right now?"

"At home."

"Come out. Let's talk face-to-face. Don't talk about this at home."

"Okay."

We agreed to meet at a coffee shop, not the one downstairs from David's office.

Rachel looked slimmer than she did back in college, rocking a short haircut and a sleek black suit that screamed business.

As soon as she spotted me, her eyebrows drew together in concern. "You've lost a lot of weight."

"That's what happens when you're a mom," I replied with a smile.

She didn't smile back. "Tell me everything, from the beginning."

I laid it all out for her. Everything I discovered last night: the money that disappeared from the bank card, the chat logs on the old phone, the conversations between David and Olivia, and his plans for moving money around and trying to get custody.

Rachel listened, jotting things down, her face getting more and more serious as I spoke.

When I finished, she set her pen down and looked at me. "Rebecca, let me ask you something first."

"Sure, ask me," I replied.

"What outcome do you want?"

I paused, thinking it over before answering, "I want custody."

"Anything else?"

"I want what I deserve, my share of the money."

"Anything else?"

"I want him to pay for what he's done."

Rachel nodded. "Alright, let's break down your situation."