Chapter 4

The next morning, Brennan left for his mandatory twenty-four-hour shift.

"I'm sorry about last night," he said at the door. "Let me make it up to you when I get off tomorrow."

I looked at the badge on his chest.

"Have a safe shift, Brennan."

The moment his truck disappeared down the street, I went upstairs.

I packed my passport, birth certificate, studio deed, tax files, prenatal records, and medication. I packed my running clothes, my mother's jewelry, and the photographs from my grandmother's cottage in St. Andrews Bay.

I packed without rushing.

The more of my life I removed from the room, the less it looked like a home I had lost.

It looked like a place I had finally stopped waiting in.

Everything Brennan had bought me stayed where it was.

The diamond bracelet. The emerald earrings. The designer coat still hanging in its garment bag.

By noon, Evelyn Ward, the family-law attorney I had retained that morning, had filed the emergency motions and arranged for all future contact to go through her office.

I transferred my personal earnings into a separate account, called my studio manager, and told her I would be away for a while.

At the back of the closet, beneath the cashmere sweaters, the white gift box was still there.

I had hidden it there because I wanted to watch Brennan open it.

Now the thought of putting it in his hands made my stomach turn.

I left it where it was and closed the closet door.

The driver arrived at four.

I carried my suitcases downstairs, took one last look through the quiet house, and walked out without leaving a note.

At 5:45, as the car turned onto the main road, I saw Brennan's red pickup coming toward the house.

A bouquet of anniversary roses lay across the passenger seat.

I looked away before he reached the driveway.

Behind me, the white gift box was still waiting beneath the cashmere sweaters.

Brennan always went upstairs first when he came home looking for me.