A week later, photographs arrived at Everett's office. They came in a plain envelope. No return address. Inside were pictures of Naomi leaving a motel. It sat outside the county line. A man's arm was around her shoulder. Her face was turned just enough to be unmistakable.
Naomi swore she'd never been to that motel. "Someone set this up," she said. "Look at the timestamp." "I was at my sister's that whole weekend."
Naomi's sister, Renee, had said the same thing at the time. No one had listened to her either. "She was on my couch all weekend," Renee told Everett directly, once, before the divorce finalized. "I don't know what those photos show, but it wasn't her." Everett had thanked her politely and shown her the door. He hadn't believed a word of it. Renee never forgave him for that, not fully, even after the truth came out later.
