Chapter 2
The air in the car was thick with tension.
I pulled over to the side of the road.
A car behind me honked, the sound sharp and annoying.
I ignored it and looked at John's eyes in the rear-view mirror.
They were clouded, filled with guilt and struggle.
"Mrs. Gates, I shouldn't have left," John said. "If I left, there would be no one to look out for you.
"But if I didn't leave, he'd fire me.
"If he fired me, I wouldn't be able to help you at all."
My throat went dry. I couldn't get any word out.
"He was a nice man," John continued. "Mr. Gates used to be a decent guy.
"When the company was starting, he'd drink until he ended up with a bleeding ulcer for a 600-dollar deal.
"Back then, every time he got in the car, he'd tell me you were the person he felt sorry for the most, and his biggest wish was to make sure you live comfortably."
John's voice started trembling. "But people change.
"When he got more money, he was fickle in love.
"It was about five years ago, no, six.
"Since that secretary with the last name White showed up."
He referred to Vivian White, who was young, beautiful, and capable.
She was Vance's right-hand woman.
That was what everyone said.
"At first, it was late meetings, and I'd drive them," John said. "Then, it was business trips, and I'd take them to the airport.
"After that, it was hotels, or some neighborhood I'd never heard of.
"I'm not blind, Mrs. Gates. I've known it all."
Outside the window, people were passing by.
Inside, the silence was suffocating.
I felt a chill creeping through my veins.
"I warned Mr. Gates," John added. "I told him that you're so nice, and he can't treat you like this.
"But he told me to shut up and mind my own business.
"He also told me that if I let out anything, I'd be fired.
"I didn't dare speak up.
"I was scared that if I got kicked out, you'd never know the truth."
John broke down in tears.
He was nearly sixty, sitting in the back seat of my car while quietly shedding tears.
He couldn't go on.
We stayed parked for a long time.
I restarted the engine and drove to the station.
Then I helped him with his old canvas bag, which was light.
Before he left, he grabbed my arm and held on tight. "Mrs. Gates, when you get back, take a look at the passenger seat.
"There's something hidden under the seat cover.
"Please, you must check it."
He let go, turned, and headed for the turnstile without looking back.
I watched him vanish into the crowd.
I stood there for a long time.
Then I got back in the car.
I slid into the driver's seat, but I didn't drive off right away.
Instead, I glanced over at the passenger seat.
I stared at it for a long time before I reached out and felt around with my hand.
My fingers traced the edge of the seat cover and slipped underneath it.
There, my hand bumped into something hard and square.
It was a cookie tin.
I took it out, set it on my lap, and popped it open.
No cookies were inside.
Instead, there was a stack of photos.
The first one showed Vance and Vivian in a restaurant, holding hands.
The second was taken in a jewelry store. Vivian had a necklace around her neck, and Vance was behind her, helping her put it on.
The third was in an underground parking garage, and they were hugging and kissing.
I looked at the photos one after another: at the entrance of a hotel and in front of an apartment building.
Every photo stung me hard.
I turned to the last item.
There was a stack of photocopies of hotel room receipts.
Under them lay a tiny USB drive and a note.
It was John's handwriting, shaky and scrawled.
It read: [Mrs. Gates, I'm not leaving because I want to. But I'm scared he'll find out, and you'll get caught up in it.
[I've secretly saved some evidence from these years. It's all on the USB drive.
[You're so nice. And nice people shouldn't be pushed around.
[With all this, you can divorce him and walk away with half of everything he owns.]
My eyes lingered on those words.
The cookie tin in my hands felt like it weighed a ton.
Outside the window, the sky grew dim.
The city lit up as night fell.
My world seemed to be drowned in darkness.