Chapter 4
Her tone made it sound obvious.
"Last year, we already gave the house to Michael. You can cover the car."
"That house was supposed to be mine."
I tightened my grip on the phone. "The compensation was divided per person. I had a share."
"What are you bringing that up for now?" Sarah's voice turned sharp.
"Giving the house to Michael was for your father's sake.
"Once he has a house, it'll be easier for him to get married, and your father can have a grandson.
"You're already married, what do you need a house for?
"Doesn't David already have one?"
"That's his property from before the marriage."
I spoke slowly, one word at a time.
"It has nothing to do with me."
"Why are you splitting hairs like that? You're married."
She was getting agitated.
"What's wrong with you? Why are you so selfish?"
Selfish.
That word again.
As long as I don't go along with them, I'm selfish.
"How much does he need?"
"Thirty thousand," she said immediately.
"The car is eighty thousand. Michael has saved fifty.
"Thirty isn't much, you can manage it."
"I don't have it."
"Then ask David."
"He doesn't have it either."
"You think I'm stupid?"
Her voice turned shrill.
"David makes over a hundred thousand a year. He can't come up with thirty?"
"He has the mortgage and household expenses."
"What household? You don't even have children."
The words hit like a knife straight to my chest.
Yes, we don't have children.
We tried for three years. I lost count of how many doctors we saw and how many medications I took.
Every time Sarah called, the first thing she asked was, "Are you pregnant yet?" Then came the sigh.
"If it's not working, try IVF. If money's tight, I can help."
She didn't know we had already tried once.
It failed.
The egg retrieval hurt so much that I thought I might pass out.
David held my hand and said, "Sophie, we don't need a child."
Later, he changed his mind.
Whenever he saw other people's kids, the longing in his eyes was impossible to hide.
"Mom, I really don't have the money."
"Then put David on the phone."
"He's at work."
"Tell him to call me after work."
She hung up.
I leaned against the wall, a chill running through me.
Olivia came out of the bedroom. "Sophie, was that Mom?"
"Yeah."
"Was it about Michael buying a car?"
She poured herself a glass of water and took her time drinking it.
"How did you know?"
"Michael video called me yesterday. He said he found a car he likes."
She blinked at me. "Sophie, maybe you could lend him some money. It's rare for Michael to really want something."
"I don't have it."
"David does."
She said it like it was nothing. "Thirty thousand is nothing to him. Why don't you talk to him for me?"
"You and David seem pretty close," I said, looking at her.
"Isn't he your husband?" Olivia smiled, all innocence. "He seemed like a nice guy yesterday. I'm sure he'd help Michael."
"Then you should ask him yourself."
I turned and went back to the bedroom, closing the door behind me. I leaned against it and took a deep breath.
I can't lose my temper. If I do, I lose.
I need to stay calm.
I took out my phone and messaged my best friend, Grace Summers.
[Are you there? I need your help.]
She replied instantly.
[What's going on, babe?]
[Let's talk on the phone.]
I called her and explained the situation briefly.
I didn't mention the pregnancy, only that I wanted a divorce and needed to gather evidence.
"What the hell!" Grace exploded on the other end. "David is a complete jerk. And your adopted sister is unbelievable. What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to collect proof of the affair," I said, lowering my voice. "Help me find a reliable private investigator."
"Got it. My husband knows someone who is very professional."
"And one more thing. Look into Olivia for me."
"Why?"
"I want to know when exactly she and David got involved, and what she's been doing lately, who she's been seeing."
"Understood."
Grace agreed without hesitation. Then her tone softened. "But are you okay?"
"I'm fine."
"Don't bottle it up. If you need to cry, just cry. I'm here."
"I already have."
I looked out the window.
"Now I just want them to cry."
After hanging up, I opened my laptop.
I started looking up family law.
Division of property, child custody, and the legal weight of infidelity evidence.
I went through it piece by piece until my eyes ached.
Divorce, it turned out, was a war. And I was short on ammunition.
The house was David's premarital property.
The car was under my dad's name, but David drove it.
We had $140,000 in savings, marital assets to be split evenly.
That left me with $70,000.
Seven years of my life for $70,000.
Cheap.
I rested a hand on my lower abdomen.
If I kept the baby, I could claim child support.
But being a single mother wouldn't be easy.
And I didn't want to tie myself down with a child.
There was a knock on the door.
"Sophie, I'm heading out," Olivia called from outside.
"Where to?" I asked.
"Meeting a friend."
"Coming back for lunch?"
"No, my friend's treating."
"Okay."
I heard her humming as she left, the click of her heels fading down the hallway.
I walked to the window and saw her get into a black sedan.
A man was driving.
Not David.
I snapped a photo of the license plate and sent it to Grace.
[Check this car.]
Half an hour later, she replied.
[Owner is William Clark, forty-two, runs a renovation company. Married, two kids.]
[What's Olivia's connection to him?] I asked.
[Looking into it. I'll update you.]
[Also, I found a detective. How do you want to proceed?]
[Set up a meeting this afternoon. You pick the place.]
[OK.]
I put my phone down and went back to my computer.
Then something crossed my mind.
I opened David's laptop.
The password was our wedding anniversary.
He hadn't even changed it.
I went straight to his chats. No messages showed up on WhatsApp desktop, but his browser history was still there.
Among his most visited sites was a local forum. I clicked in. It required a login.
I tried a few of his usual passwords, but none worked. Then I entered his birthday. That did it.
There was an unread private message. I opened it.
[See you at the usual place on Saturday. Miss you.]
Sent yesterday afternoon.
The profile picture was a vivid rose. I clicked it open and zoomed in.
On one of the petals, there was a tiny line of text.
"Olivia."
I took a screenshot, logged out, and cleared the history.
Back on the bed, my heart pounded.
The usual place. So they had one.