Chapter 2
I didn’t sleep all night.
At four in the morning, I drove to the woods.
Seven years ago, I’d buried my husband behind an oak tree split by lightning.
Using my phone for light, I brushed aside the fallen leaves. The ground was level. There was no sign anyone had disturbed it.
I crouched there for a long time before finally unclenching my hands.
He should still be down there.
When I got home, Sophie was sitting at the kitchen table in her school uniform. Last night’s cake sat untouched.
“Where did you go?” she asked, staring at the mud on my shoes.
“There was a problem with the car.” I turned away and slipped my shoes into the cabinet.
“At four in the morning?” She frowned. “I heard you leave.”
Before I could think of an answer, the doorbell rang.
A woman in glasses stood outside. She held up her credentials.
An investigator from the court’s hearing office.
Behind her stood the man from the photograph.
My grip tightened on the door.
The same height. The same slight lean to the right. Even the way he pressed his lips together before speaking was exactly like my husband.
“Hello, Nora.” His eyes reddened as he looked at me.
“You can’t be here.” I held on to the doorknob, blocking the entrance.
“Mr. Bennett asked to arrange an initial visit,” the investigator said, putting away her ID. “I apologize for coming without an appointment. If you’d rather not speak with him, we’ll leave.”
“Dad?”
Sophie peered around me.
The man went still. His lips parted.
“Sophie.” His voice caught. “Look how much you’ve grown.”
She covered her mouth and took a step toward him.
I immediately moved in front of her.
“Don’t touch my daughter.” I stared at him.
“Our daughter,” he corrected softly, meeting my eyes.
“Mom, please. Just let him talk.” Sophie tugged at my sleeve, tears falling onto the back of her hand.
I looked at her for a moment. Then I let go of the doorknob.
“Ten minutes.”
I stepped aside, keeping one arm in front of her.
The man walked in without looking around and went straight to a chair at the kitchen table.
My husband’s chair.
In seven years, I’d replaced the table and rearranged the furniture. But I’d always left that spot for him.
“Who told you?” I asked, sitting across from him, my hands clasped beneath the table.
He followed my gaze to the chair.
“I lived here for ten years, Nora.”
“Where did we first meet?” I watched his face.
“The college library.” His right eyebrow lifted. “You spilled your coffee, then expected me to apologize.”
“What was engraved inside your wedding ring?” My nails dug into the back of my hand.
“Coordinates.” He rubbed his bare ring finger. “The place where we first kissed.”
Sophie turned to me immediately, waiting for me to confirm it.
I clenched my jaw.
Old emails. Photos. Personal records.
He could have found those details.
“Time’s up.” I stood and pointed toward the door.
He turned to the investigator.
“Could I have a moment alone with my wife?” he asked calmly.
“No.” I took half a step back.
He didn’t argue. He stood and headed for the door.
As he passed me, he lowered his head.
“It rained last night.” His breath brushed my ear. “The ground in the woods must have been soft.”
I whipped my head toward him.
He had already straightened up and was smiling at Sophie.
“Dad will come see you again soon.”
He raised a hand to wave, but his eyes stayed on me.
After the door closed, Sophie remained rooted to the spot.
I slipped my hand into my pocket and gripped the object I’d brought home from the woods.
A silver cuff link, smeared with dirt.
Seven years ago, before I buried my husband, I’d fastened it to his cuff myself.
But early this morning, I’d found it behind the oak tree.
Resting on the ground.
Right in the center of his grave.