Chapter 2 - THE HOUSE THAT NO LONGER FELT LIKE HOME
The flight to Portland was long enough for the adrenaline to disappear.
By the time I landed, I was exhausted.
I rented a small car and drove south toward Newport.
The rain followed me for most of the journey.
Oregon was nothing like Manhattan.
There were no towers.
No boardrooms.
No champagne receptions.
No people asking who my husband was.
There was only ocean, gray sky, and wind.
The bookstore sat on a quiet street overlooking the harbor.
My college friend, Nora Bennett, owned it with her husband.
She hugged me so tightly that I almost cried.
"You look terrible."
"Thank you."
"I'm serious."
"I know."
Her eyes dropped to my stomach.
"You told him?"
I shook my head.
Nora's expression hardened.
"Then we're not telling him until you're ready."
I nodded.
For the first time in months, I felt safe.
That night, I slept for eleven hours.
The next morning, I woke to dozens of missed calls.
Daniel.
Margaret.
Daniel.
Unknown number.
Daniel.
I deleted none of them.
But I answered none either.
Then I received a message from an unfamiliar number.
You don't know what you married into.
I stared at it.
A second message arrived.
Don't trust Vanessa.
Then:
Don't trust Margaret either.
I locked the phone.
Nora noticed.
"Problem?"
"Probably spam."
She gave me a look.
"You've always been a terrible liar."
I smiled.
"I know."
Meanwhile, in Manhattan, Daniel had discovered that his wife had vanished from their home.
He returned to the apartment at midnight.
My clothes were gone.
My passport was gone.
Half the books on my bedside table were gone.
But my jewelry remained.
My photographs remained.
The nursery sketches I'd secretly drawn remained.
Daniel stood in the bedroom and finally noticed something he had ignored for months.
The apartment felt empty.
Not because I had taken much.
Because I had taken myself.
He called Margaret.
"Mom, did Amy say where she was going?"
"No."
"Did she tell you why?"
Margaret was silent.
"Mom."
"She gave me her ring."
Daniel closed his eyes.
"Why?"
"Because she believes you don't love her."
"I love her."
"Then why was another woman holding you on the dance floor?"
Daniel didn't answer.
Margaret's voice became colder.
"Who is Vanessa?"
"She's an executive consultant."
"That's not what I asked."
Daniel sat down.
"I didn't sleep with her."
"That's not what I asked."
Silence.
Finally, he said:
"Something happened in Chicago."
"What?"
"Vanessa found a financial discrepancy."
Margaret paused.
"Daniel."
"I didn't tell Amy because I didn't want to involve her."
"Involve her in what?"
Daniel looked toward the window.
"I think someone is stealing from Harrison Freight."
Margaret went silent.
"How much?"
"Enough to destroy us."
"And Vanessa?"
"She helped me trace it."
"So you lied to Amy."
"I was trying to protect her."
Margaret sighed.
"Men always say that when they want to justify keeping women in the dark."
Daniel looked at the ring in his hand.
"I didn't know she was pregnant."
Margaret froze.
"What?"
"I didn't say that."
"You just did."
Daniel looked confused.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
Margaret's heart began racing.
"Amy told me something before she left."
"What?"
"She was going to tell you something important."
Daniel stood.
"What?"
"She didn't tell me."
That night, Daniel searched our bedroom.
He opened drawers.
Closets.
Boxes.
Then he found something beneath the bed.
A small shopping bag from a baby store.
Inside was a tiny knitted hat.
And a receipt.
Daniel stared at it.
The date was three weeks earlier.
He sat on the floor.
His hands began shaking.
"Baby?"
He whispered the word.
Then he remembered every time I'd looked tired.
Every morning I had refused coffee.
Every night I had fallen asleep early.
Every appointment I had said was "nothing."
His face crumpled.
He called my phone.
It went straight to voicemail.
"Amy..."
He stopped.
For the first time, Daniel Harrison sounded terrified.
"I don't know what I did."
He ended the call.
Then noticed something else.
The receipt had been folded around a business card.
The card belonged to a private investigator.
Daniel stared at the name.
Elias Grant.
He immediately called the number.
A man answered.
"Mr. Harrison."
"Why were you investigating my wife?"
There was silence.
Then Elias said:
"I wasn't investigating your wife."
"Then who?"
"Your wife hired me to investigate you."
Daniel's blood ran cold.
"What did you find?"
Elias paused.
"That's why I wanted to meet you."
"Tonight."
"Impossible."
"Then tomorrow morning."
"Mr. Harrison..."
"Tell me."
May you like
The investigator exhaled.
"Your wife isn't the only person who thinks you're being lied to."
