Chapter 5: What Donna Found in the Morning
I was up before six.
Donna arrived at seven-thirty with two coffees and the expression she wore when she already knew something was wrong and was deciding how to say it.
"Sit down," I told her.
"You sit down," she said.
"I need to show you something."
She put her coffee on the counter and pulled out her phone.
"I was up late.
After we talked, I couldn't stop thinking about Sienna.
So I looked her up."
"I looked her up months ago."
"Not like this." Donna turned the phone toward me.
It was a LinkedIn profile.
Sienna Marsh, Senior Executive Assistant.
The photo was professional, composed.
I'd seen it before.
"Scroll down," Donna said.
I scrolled.
Previous position: Executive Assistant, Hargrove Capital, 2019–2021.
I looked up.
"Julian worked at Hargrove Capital until 2021."
"Keep scrolling."
The position before that: Administrative Coordinator, Whitfield Group, 2017–2019.
"I don't know the Whitfield Group," I said.
"You wouldn't.
It's a small private equity firm.
Dissolved in 2020." Donna took her coffee back.
"But I know who founded it."
She waited.
"Tell me," I said.
"Gerald Marsh."
The name landed without meaning for a moment.
Then it did.
Gerald Marsh was Julian's godfather.
I set my coffee down.
"She's not just his secretary," Donna said.
"She's Gerald Marsh's daughter."
The room felt different.
Not smaller — reconfigured.
Like furniture that had been in the wrong arrangement for months and someone had finally moved it.
"He didn't meet her at work," I said.
"No."
"He's known her for years."
"Possibly his whole adult life."
I stood up and walked to the window.
A bus went past on the street below.
A woman with a stroller.
An ordinary Saturday morning doing ordinary things.
"The wedding," I said.
"His godfather was at our wedding."
"I know."
"Gerald Marsh stood in the third row and shook my hand and said I was a lucky woman to have found Julian."
Donna didn't say anything.
"And his daughter was already—" I stopped.
"Yes," Donna said quietly.
I turned around.
"How long do you think it's been going on?"
"Based on the employment history?
At minimum, four years."
Four years.
Julian and I had been together for three.
I picked my coffee back up.
Took a slow sip.
Put it down again.
"He said something last night," I told Donna.
"In a text.
Four words.
*You don't know everything.*"
Donna's eyes didn't move from my face.
"I think he meant Gerald," I said.
"I think there's something about Gerald Marsh I haven't found yet."
"What kind of something?"
"I don't know." I looked at the desk drawer where I'd put the prepaid phone.
"But I think I need to find out before Monday."
Donna followed my gaze.
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
Before I could answer, the buzzer for my apartment door sounded.
I wasn't expecting anyone.
I walked to the intercom.
"Yes?"
A man's voice.
Older.
Measured.
"Clara.
May you like
It's Gerald Marsh.
I think we need to talk."
