Chapter 2

I stood in the middle of the living room, listening to the echo of the slam.

Then I went to the balcony, took down the floral dress, folded it carefully, and placed it into a bag. It was solid evidence for later.

I poured myself a glass of water and sank into the couch.

For three years, I was convinced he was the one.

He was gentle and considerate. He knew how to cook and how to make me feel good.

He told me that after we got married, we'd work hard together and make life better.

I believed him.

I shared with him my savings and my place and gave him three whole years of my time and devotion.

What did I get in return? Only a set of SK-II, a pair of pink bedsheets, a floral dress, and three straight months of food deliveries for two.

I looked out at the night view and suddenly remembered what my mother once told me.

"Emily," she'd said, "always put the house in your name. You never know what marriage will bring."

Back then, I believed she was just worrying over nothing.

Now, I was just grateful I'd listened.

I was so grateful this home was still mine.

I grabbed my phone and called the building management.

"Hello, this is Emily Brooks. Could you check whether there were any registered visitors to my apartment in the last three months?" I asked.

"Ms. Brooks, one moment, please... Let me see... Yes, there was a woman who signed in seventeen times over the past three months," the property manager replied.

"Seventeen times?" I echoed.

"That's correct. Her name is Sophia Lane. She listed herself as a family member of yours," he said.

I gripped my phone so hard that my knuckles went white.

"Thanks," I said, and then hung up.

I had no idea who Sophia Lane was, but David certainly did.

I opened up Instagram and went to David's feed.

In the three years we'd been together, he hardly ever posted.

On the rare occasions he did, it was only about work.

I went into his contacts list and searched for "Lane," but found nothing.

I tried "Sophia," and there was still nothing.

I finally typed "Sophie" into the search bar. One profile popped up, saved under that name alone, no last name, nothing else.

I tapped on it, and the profile picture was a pink bunny, the exact same one as the cushion on my couch.

I stared at that bunny for a long time. And then I smiled.

David really outdid himself.

I set my phone down and got to my feet.

Then I walked into the bedroom, ripped the pink bedding off, and dumped it straight into the trash.

After that, I went to the bathroom, took photos of the SK-II set, the pink toothbrush, and the matching cup before tossing them away as well.

After putting on my own gray sheets, I climbed into bed, lay down, and slept soundly.

*****

First thing the next morning, I called in and took the entire week off.

David hadn't come home the night before. He'd texted: [Staying at a friend's. Don't worry.]

I didn't reply.

I got up, got ready, and headed out. My first stop was the building management office.

"Hi, I'd like to check the security footage for my apartment from the last three months," I said.

The staff glanced at me. "Ms. Brooks, do you have a reason for that?"

"I suspect someone has been entering my apartment while I'm not home," I replied.

"Do you want us to call the police?" the staff asked.

"Let's check the footage first," I said.

The staff hesitated for a moment, but eventually pulled up the footage for me.

On the screen, I saw a young woman walking up to the apartment entrance, shopping bags in hand.

She was wearing a floral dress, with long hair and looking to be in her mid-twenties.

She swiped a resident key card to get in.

I only had two key cards. One was with me, and I'd given the other to David.

That meant she used David's card to get in.

I kept watching the footage. She appeared almost every day, sometimes during daylight, sometimes late into the evening.

Sometimes, she carried grocery bags, other times clothing totes.

In one clip, David appeared with her.

His arm was wrapped around her waist as they stepped into the elevator, both smiling and chatting easily.

I stared at the screen, not missing a single moment.

He looked more relaxed than he ever had with me.

"Ms. Brooks, are you okay?" the staff asked cautiously.

"I'm fine," I said. "Could you please copy this footage for me?"

"Well..." The staff hesitated.

"I'm the owner here. This is my place," I said, making it clear.

The staff looked at me for a moment and nodded. "Alright, please wait a moment."

I left the management office with the footage saved on a USB drive.

Next, I went to the convenience store downstairs.

The owner recognized me right away. "Ms. Brooks, it's been a while. Busy lately?"

"Just got back from a work trip," I said, smiling lightly. "Anything out of the ordinary happen while I was gone?"

She paused to think. "Not really... Oh, actually, there's a young girl who's always stopping by your building. Is she your sister?"

"What young girl?" I asked.

"The one with the long hair, always wearing floral dresses. She's at your apartment almost every day. I thought she was family," the owner said.

"Did she tell you she was my sister?" I asked.

"No, it was your husband. They came in together once, and when I asked who she was, he said she was his sister-in-law staying over."

I almost laughed at the absurdity.

I never had a sister.

"How long has she been coming by?" I asked.

She thought for a moment before replying, "Three months, I'd say. At first, it was only now and then, but lately, it's daily. Mornings, evenings, you name it."

"Does she come alone?" I asked.

"Sometimes by herself, sometimes with your husband. He's always very sweet to her, always buying her snacks and such," she said.

I nodded. "Thanks."

"Ms. Brooks, is something up with you guys?" she asked.

"Everything's fine. Just curious," I replied.

I left the store and walked toward the front gate, where a guard in his fifties was posted.

"Excuse me, could I ask you something?" I said.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Has a young woman been showing up a lot in the past three months?" I asked.

"Young woman?" He thought for a moment. "You mean the one with long hair?"

"Yes," I said.

"Oh, her. She shows up every day. Sometimes alone, sometimes with a man in a white car," the guard replied.

That was it. David drove a White Accord.

"Do you know who she is?" I asked.

"No idea. I just figured she was a relative of yours," the guard replied.

"Why do you say that?" I asked.

"Well, I heard them arguing once."

"What were they arguing about?" I asked.

The guard scratched his head. "She said, 'When are you going to divorce her?' And he answered, 'Just hold on. Give me some time.' Honestly, I thought I was watching a soap opera."

I stood perfectly still.

"Thanks," I said.

"Don't mention it. You know... you don't look too good."

"I'm all right," I replied.