Chapter 6

That night, I went to the study to grab something. As I passed Jacob's desk, I saw his phone light up.

A message popped up; the contact was saved as just a heart emoji.

The message read simply: [For this month.]

There was a screenshot of a bank transfer attached, and the amount was a hefty sum.

The message lingered for two seconds before the screen locked itself.

I didn't touch the phone. I took what I needed and walked out of the study.

I almost knew what was going on.

Back in my bedroom, I pulled out the photo Maria had given me from a secret spot in my closet. It showed a woman in a designer coat, taking a leisurely walk by the beach.

It was Elsa.

The woman everyone thought had died in a car accident three years ago was Duncan Scott's wife, Jacob's old army buddy, and Xavier's mom in name.

She wasn't just alive; she was living it up.

And the cash that kept her comfortable? Every month, like clockwork, it landed in her account from some shadowy source.

I put the photo away and sent Maria a quick text: [Did you get the call logs?]

Maria fired back right away: [Tomorrow. There's some pretty wild stuff in there.]

I turned off the lights and lay down in bed.

From the next room, I could hear Xavier's voice; he was playing a game, laughing out loud.

I'd started doubting whose child Xavier really was from the very first year.

It wasn't because I had any hard evidence; it was just the gut feeling of a woman who'd been a mom for six years.

The way Jacob looked at Xavier was off.

It wasn't just guilt or pity for the son of a fallen comrade. There was a warmth in his eyes, the kind that only came from real family.

He'd never looked at Zoe with that kind of warmth.

I closed my eyes, and all I could hear was Zoe's voice on the phone, crying out for her mom.

Xavier's birthday party was just thirteen days away.

The birthday party preparations were moving along smoothly.

Every morning, I'd go to the hotel to coordinate with the event manager. In the afternoon, I'd pick Xavier up from school, and in the evenings, I'd spend time with Lucy over dinner.

To everyone else, it looked like I had finally come to her senses and returned to being the ideal wife and mom.

But there was so much they didn't know.

That afternoon, just as I was leaving the hotel, my phone rang; it was Philip.

"Hey, Rebecca, where are you? Mom wants you to come home for dinner tonight," Philip said.

I frowned. "What's up?"

"Nothing major," Philip said. "Jacob stopped by the other day, chatted with Dad. Mom and Dad just want to talk to you in person."

I was surprised that Jacob went to my parents' place.

"When did he go?" I asked.

Philip just mumbled, "A couple of days ago, I think. He brought a bunch of stuff. Don't read too much into it. He was just dropping by."

I knew exactly why Jacob went to my parents' place.

When I brought up divorce at that dinner, he acted all chill, but behind the scenes, he was already working to block every possible way out for me.

Going to my parents' place to play the family card and trying to get them on his side was a real power move.

At six that evening, I arrived at my parents' place.

Right as I stepped in, I noticed a brand-new massage chair in the living room, with two boxes of imported supplements still sealed beside it.

My dad was sprawled out in the massage chair, eyes closed and looking like he was in heaven. When he noticed me, he sat up straight.

My mom came out of the kitchen carrying a dish, and when she saw me, her expression turned a bit uncomfortable.

Doris Tate, Philip's wife, was curled up in the corner of the couch, scrolling on her phone. She glanced up at me, then quickly dropped her gaze back down.

We all sat down at the dinner table.

My mom was the first to speak. "Rebecca, Jacob told me about what happened at the restaurant last time.

"You're not a kid anymore, so stop talking about divorce every time something happens. Jerry, no, I mean, Jacob, he took in his comrade's child, that's a good thing. As his wife, you should be supporting him."

I set my fork down.

"Mom, do you even know what Zoe's been through living out in the countryside?" I asked.

My mom paused for a moment.

"Jacob said Zoe's doing fine out there," she said. "His aunt's family cares about her a lot, even if the living conditions are a bit rough.

"We didn't have much money when you were growing up, and you still turned out just fine, didn't you?"

"Zoe's arms are all bruised up," I said.

I pulled out my phone, scrolled to a picture of Zoe, and showed it to my mom.

She looked worried for a second, but then her expression shifted.

"Kids are always getting banged up," she said. "You're always overthinking things."

"Her cousin beat her up," I said. "This wasn't just some random bruise."

My dad set down his glass and cleared his throat.

"Rebecca, when Jacob came by last time, he said he'd bring Zoe back right after Xavier's birthday. It's just a couple more weeks, tops. What's got you so anxious?"

Philip jumped in.