work.”
He walked past me and went upstairs.
I stood in the kitchen, listening to his footsteps fade.
I didn’t know the woman’s name.
I didn’t know whether she was a client.
I didn’t know what their relationship was.
But I knew something else.
Daniel had given me an answer that explained nothing, then acted as though I had no right to ask for more.
Over the following weeks, I tried to put the incident behind me.
I told myself that suspicion could destroy a marriage just as surely as
