Chapter 1

One day, I logged onto the app to check the electricity bill and discovered my husband had two property accounts linked under his name.

The first was our home.

The second was labelled "Joanne's Home".

I stared at those words for a long time.

Joanne.

My name wasn't Joanne.

*****

Andrew Snyder and I had been married for five years.

Our marriage wasn't all sunshine and roses, but it was stable. He worked as a project supervisor, and I was a director at a design firm. Together, we made a pretty decent living for ourselves in this city.

It was a Saturday.

I was lounging on the couch, scrolling through my phone, when it hit me that I needed to pay the electricity bill.

I logged into the power company app and opened it up.

And that was when I saw it.

Under Andrew's account, there were two properties listed under his name.

The first one was for our place at Bayside Garden, Building 18, Unit 602.

The second one was for Westwood Condo, Building 7, Unit 1501, with the note "Joanne's Place."

My finger froze on the screen.

I was familiar with Westwood Condo. Unit 1501 in Building 7 at Westwood Condo was mine.

I bought it before we got married.

I'd been renting it out ever since. Andrew took care of the management, and every month, 1500 dollars was deposited into my account right on schedule.

It had been three years now and I never missed a single payment.

I kept staring at that note: Joanne's Place.

I put my phone down and sat there for a long time.

Then I grabbed my phone, opened up the bank app, and scrolled through nearly three years of transactions.

Every month on the fifth, Andrew would transfer 1500 dollars to me. The memo always said "Westwood Condo's rent."

It was the exact amount right on time every single month.

Then I opened up Andrew's fitness tracker app and checked his step history.

On weekends, he'd often rack up ten or twenty thousand steps.

He said he was running.

I never thought much of it before.

I backed out of the app and took another look at that account.

It was not called "Rental Property" or "Investment Property, just "Joanne's Place".

I let out a long breath.

I didn't call Andrew to ask.

Instead, I grabbed my car keys and headed out.

Westwood Condo was just a twenty-minute drive from our house.

When I got there, it was 2:30 PM.

The security guard at the gate stopped me. I gave him the building and unit number, and after looking me over, he let me through.

"Ah, 1501 in Building 7? You're Mr. Snyder's wife, right?" he asked.

I was caught off guard for a moment.

"Yes," I said quietly.

The guard smiled. "Your husband came by last month to pay the property fee. He mentioned you'd be stopping by a lot."

I nodded, not saying a word.

I got off the lift at the fifteenth floor.

The door to Unit 1501 was closed.

I stood in front of the door.

There was a small pink card stuck to the door, with the word "Home" handwritten on it.

I stared at that word for some time.

I reached into my pocket and felt the keys there.

I'd always kept a spare set for this place. I gave one to Andrew so he could handle the rental for me, and kept the other for myself.

I didn't open the door.

I stood there for a moment, then turned and walked away.

Back in my car, I sat in the driver's seat, my hands on the steering wheel.

Someone flashed through my mind with that name: Joanne Spencer.

Two years ago, a new intern joined the company. With a round face and a bright smile, she always greeted people in a sweet, cheerful way. I was her mentor for three months.

When her internship ended, she hugged me and cried, "Nicole, you're the best boss I've ever had."

She didn't end up staying with us.

Andrew mentioned that his friend's company was hiring, so he set her up with an interview.

I didn't think much of it at the time.

I even gave her a 600-dollar cash gift as a send-off.

I made the connection quickly between her and the house.

I shut my eyes for a moment. My hands were trembling.

Still, I didn't let myself cry.

Needing someone to talk to, I grabbed my phone and sent a message to my bestie, Lisette Carr.

Lisette was a lawyer.

[Are you free? I need to ask you something,] I typed.

Three seconds later, her reply popped up.

Lisette: [What's up?] she asked.

Me: [Can you help me check what the law says if my spouse lets someone else use my personal property from before our marriage without my permission?]

This time, her reply took a little longer.

Lisette: [Nicole, what's going on?]

Me: [Please check for me first.]

Lisette: [Okay, we'll talk tonight.]

I put down my phone and sat in my car, staring at the entrance to Westwood Condo.

Sunlight glinted off the windows on the fifteenth floor.

I bought that place and my name was on the property.

But Andrew made it "Joanne's Place."

*****

That night, I met up with Lisette at a café.

Lisette was the type who never beat around the bush.

I showed her the screenshot from the power company app.

She looked at it for three seconds.

"Westwood Condo, Building 7, Unit 1501? Isn't that the apartment you owned before you got married?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"And the note says 'Joanne's Place'?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied.

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

"Yeah, I think it's probably Joanne Spencer. She interned at my company two years ago, and then Andrew introduced her to his friend's company," I said.

Lisette put her phone down and looked at me.

"Two years ago?" she asked.

"Yeah," I replied.

"So you're saying he's known her for two years?" she asked.

I didn't say anything.

Lisette's expression changed. "Nicole, don't act impulsively. The first thing you need to do right now—"