"Go back upstairs. The Girl Who Ruined the Picture

"Who is he?"

Elaine shook her head.

"I don't know.

I've never heard his voice before."

Marcus reached across and replayed the last thirty seconds of the recording.

The man's voice again — relaxed, unhurried, the voice of someone who had been waiting a long time and didn't mind waiting a little longer.

*"And the kid?"*

*"Not a factor,"* Sondra said.

*"She's easy to manage."*

Marcus stopped the recording.

He stood up from the table, walked to the kitchen window, and stood there with his back to Elaine, both hands braced on the counter's edge.

Outside, the yard was dark and still.

The fairy lights someone had strung along the fence for the party were still on, blinking slowly.

"Easy to manage," he said.

"Marcus—"

"She called my daughter easy to manage." He turned around.

His voice was controlled but only barely.

"Like she's an obstacle.

Like she's something to be handled so the rest of the plan can move forward."

"Yes."

"There's a plan.

There's another person involved in the plan.

And I've been living in this house, sleeping next to this woman, sending money home while I travel—" He stopped.

Pressed his fingers to his forehead.

"How did I miss this?"

"You trusted her," Elaine said simply.

"That's not a character flaw.

That's what you're supposed to do with a spouse."

"I trusted her with Maya."

The words sat between them.

Elaine stood up from the table.

She crossed the kitchen and stood beside her son and didn't try to fix anything, just stood there, close enough that her shoulder touched his arm.

"What do you need from me?" she said.

"I need to know who he is."

"I can't tell you that from the recording."

"No." Marcus was already thinking.

"But she can." He looked toward the ceiling — toward the bedroom above them.

"She just doesn't know I've heard it yet."

Elaine looked at him carefully.

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to let her think she still has the upper hand." He picked up his phone.

"Tomorrow morning, before I go to Daniel's office, I'm going to act like last night was just a fight.

Like I'm cooling down.

Like I'm open to talking."

"She'll use that."

"I'm counting on it." He scrolled to his messages.

"When she thinks she's winning, she talks.

You've heard the recordings.

She talks."

Elaine was quiet for a moment.

"And Maya?"

"Maya goes to your house tomorrow.

First thing." He met his mother's eyes.

"I don't want her in this house while I'm doing this."

"Agreed." Elaine paused.

"There's one more thing you should know."

"Tell me."

"The man in the recording — at the very end, just before the road noise cuts out — she says a name.

It's quick.

You might have missed it."

Marcus looked at the phone in his hand.

"Play it again."

Elaine reached over and pressed play.

They both leaned in.

The road noise, the engine, the low familiar voice.

And then, at the very end, Sondra's voice, quieter now, almost tender:

*"Don't worry, Garrett.

We're almost there."*

Marcus straightened up slowly.

"Garrett," he said.

He typed the name into his phone's notes.

Then he opened a new message to Daniel Reeves and added three words beneath the earlier message about the mortgage:

*Find Garrett.

Urgent.*

He sent it and set the phone down.

Upstairs, the floorboard creaked again.

One step.

Then the sound of the bedroom door opening, just slightly, and then closing again.

She was still listening.

Marcus looked at his mother.

"Go get some sleep in the guest room.

I'll take the couch."

"You should sleep too."

"I will." He looked toward the hallway.

"After I check on Maya."

He climbed the stairs quietly.

Maya's door was slightly ajar, the small nightlight inside casting a warm circle on the ceiling.

He pushed the door open just enough to see her — curled on her side, one arm around the stuffed rabbit she'd had since she was four, her breathing slow and even.

He stood in the doorway for a long moment.

Then he pulled the door gently closed and stood in the dark hallway, his back against the wall, and for the first time since the party, let himself feel the full weight of what he now knew.

The master bedroom door was closed.

No light showed beneath it.

But his phone lit up on the kitchen counter below with a new message from Daniel's office.

*Garrett Holloway.