“Well, I don’t know, honey.”
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I showed Hannah the earring.
He quickly changed the subject, asking whether I needed anything from the kitchen.
That evening, I showed Hannah the earring. “Have you ever seen this before?”
She shook her head.
“Maybe it belongs to one of Dad’s girlfriends.”
“Hannah…”
I opened my mouth to defend Wesley, but the words wouldn’t come.
I began paying closer attention.
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Instead, I looked down at the unfamiliar earring in my palm. For the first time in fifteen years, I was beginning to wonder whether I really knew my husband.
Over the next few days, I began paying closer attention to Wesley.
He was spending an unusual amount of time in the garage.
Before my accident, we’d never bothered locking it. Hannah kept her bicycle there, and I occasionally went in to get gardening tools.
He changed the subject.
