Chapter 3
The second I hung up, I lost it. I stormed into the bedroom, grabbed Marsh's pillow, and slammed it onto the floor.
Right then, his phone—abandoned on the couch—lit up.
It was from "Baby love" again.
The picture loaded—Elvira on a hotel bed, blanket barely covering what mattered, eyes daring you not to look.
The headboard was pure hotel.
The date? Today.
Marsh hadn't gone to "play cards." He'd gone to a hotel.
With my sister.
Fury shot straight to my head.
I snatched up my own phone and started snapping his screen—every word, that filthy photo—my fingers shaking so hard I almost hit the wrong buttons.
More texts came in.
[Why no reply, babe?]
[Not a good time? Okay, I'm sleeping. Miss me.]
[Kisses.]
Every word stuck in me like a poisoned needle.
I tossed his phone back on the couch like it was garbage.
And then the cold hit.
What was I supposed to do?
Bust into that hotel?
Then what?
Make a scene so the whole world could watch our family burn?
No. I wasn't giving those two any easy exits.
Melissa's voice echoed in my mind: Got proof.
I needed more. Enough to destroy them. To make them pay, and pay dearly.
An idea hit—Larry. My brother‑in‑law.
He was out of town so much he probably had no clue.
And if he found out?
The one person Elvira's probably scared of was Larry.
He had money, and Elvira's cushy life ran on it.
If he dumped her, whatever she thought she could milk from Marsh wouldn't be close.
Plus—I needed an ally. Someone with skin in the game.
Larry was perfect.
I pulled up his business trip location, booked the earliest bullet train ticket I could find.
Then I phoned my boss with some story about a sick relative out of town and got a few days off.
Next, I texted Marsh: [Company just sent me on a last‑minute trip. Take care of yourself.]
He replied in seconds: [Where? How long?]
[Nearby city. Project stuff. Three or four days, maybe.]
[Got it. Stay safe.]
His reply was as perfunctory as ever.
I tossed a few changes of clothes into a suitcase and slipped out before sunrise, away from that house that now made me sick.
I didn't sleep at all on the train.
I just stared out at the scenery whipping by, mind churning.
What was I even going to say to Larry?
Would he believe me?
Would he think I was jealous? Trying to tear them apart for my own reasons?
What if he already knew and was just… letting it slide?
The questions spun and spun, until my head pounded.
But it didn't matter. I had to go.
This was the only crack in the wall I could see.
A few hours later, the train pulled in.
I called Larry.
It rang forever before he picked up.
"Hello? Who's this?" He sounded tired.
"It's me—Vania," I said.
"Vannie?" Surprise in his voice. "Why are you calling? Something wrong?"
"I… I'm here for work. Wondering if you've got time for dinner?"
"You're here? Since when? Why didn't you tell me?"
"Last‑minute trip."
"Alright, where are you? I'll come get you."
I gave him the station address.
Half an hour later, he was there.
He looked worn out—slight shadows under his eyes—but when he saw me, he smiled warm as ever.
"Vannie, long time no see. Looks like you've lost some weight," he said gently.