Chapter 4

On the fifth day, when I got to the hospital, Claire was already there.

She sat by David's bedside, peeling an apple for him. She was so slow that the peel kept snapping off every few seconds.

David grinned at her. "Seriously, Claire, your apple-peeling skills haven't gotten any better in three years."

Claire pouted and said, "Come on, I never cook. You know that better than anyone."

I walked in and set the thermos on the cabinet.

"Hey, Amanda, you're here," Claire said, standing up.

"Yeah, I made some soup today," I replied as I opened the thermos, ladled out some soup into a bowl, and handed it to David.

He took a sip and frowned. "You put too much salt in."

"Tastes fine to me."

"You like things salty, but I don't. How many times have I told you that?"

I didn't say anything and set the ladle down next to the bowl.

Claire whispered, "I did the same thing last time I made soup. My hand slipped, and I ended up putting too much salt in."

David grinned at her. "That chicken soup you made was so salty, but I still drank the whole pot."

"You were so silly back then."

"Still am."

They both laughed again.

I stood there, hands in my apron pockets.

I spent the whole morning making that soup, and all David could do was complain that it was too salty.

Yet he still remembered Claire's chicken soup from three years ago.

I waited until he finished, then took the bowl and went out to wash it.

Halfway through washing, my phone rang.

It was Tate.

"Mrs. Small, I've gone through everything you sent, and there are a few things I need to confirm with you," Tate said.

"Go ahead," I replied.

"Did your husband know you were checking those transfers to another woman. during your marriage?"

"He doesn't know I checked."

"Alright, these records can serve as proof that marital assets were transferred. And for the house, since it was bought after you got married and you both paid the mortgage, you're entitled to a share."

"What's the most I could get?"

"Your husband transferred marital assets to his mistress, and you've got solid evidence. So, you could push for sixty percent, maybe more."

"Do I have enough evidence of his wrongdoing?"

Tate paused. "The transfers show he spent money on Claire, but if you want to prove he cheated on you, you'll need something more concrete."

"What kind of evidence?"

"Chat logs, call records, photos, or witness statements."

I thought for a moment. "Got it."

After hanging up, I finished washing the bowl and dried my hands.

When I got back to the room, Claire was on her way out and brushed past me.

"See you, Amanda," Claire said.

"Take care," I replied.

Once the door closed, it was David and me in the room.

He was leaning back in bed, scrolling through his phone, while I sat quietly in the chair beside him.

After a few minutes of silence, I finally spoke up, "Hey, can I use your phone for a sec? Mine's about to die, and I need to text my mom."

He didn't look up. "Use your power bank."

"Didn't bring it."

He hesitated for a second, and then handed me his phone. "Make it quick."

I took it and pretended to type out a message.

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of his pinned chats on WhatsApp.

The first one was "Mom."

The second was "Claire."

And the third one was "Amanda."

I didn't tap into his conversation with Claire.

It was not that I didn't want to look. It was that I couldn't risk him noticing.

I gave his phone back. "Thanks."

He took it and casually set the screen face down on the blanket.

It was a small move, but I noticed it.

He was definitely hiding something from me.

That night, when I got home, I didn't rush to dig up more evidence.

I opened my phone and scrolled back to a photo David had posted on his social media a month ago.

He said it was from a company team-building event, and he'd shared a picture of the beach.

I zoomed in, and in the bottom-right corner of the photo, on the sand, there were two drinks: one with a blue straw, the other with a pink one.

He never used pink straws.

I saved the photo and then kept scrolling back until I reached last Christmas Eve.

That day, he said he was working late, so I waited at home alone until midnight. I sent him a "Merry Christmas" text, but he didn't get back to me for half an hour.

He didn't post anything on his social media that night.

But when I checked Claire's feed, I found she had posted a photo of fireworks that night, and it was tagged at Riverside Avenue, right here in town.

David once mentioned he used to set off fireworks for Claire somewhere.

I took a screenshot.