And lately, Sophia had been acting differently.
She had worn her wedding ring for six years straight. But recently she took it off, saying she’d sent it to the jeweler for maintenance.
Another time, I sat in her car and noticed potato chip crumbs in the passenger seat.
Sophia was a clean freak—she’d never allow anyone to eat in her car.
She explained then, “Michael borrowed my car to pick up his kid the other day. Must’ve been her who dropped the crumbs.”
At the time, I trusted her completely and thought nothing of it.
But now, looking back, each detail seemed wrong.
I swallowed my suspicions, pretending to speak casually.
“By the way, Michael, isn’t it about time to pick your kid up from school?”
Michael blinked, then smiled.
“Oh, no. Last year I transferred her to Lincoln High School. It’s right next to our place, just a five-minute walk. Haven’t needed to drive her in ages.”
He said it easily, his expression calm.
My heart sank, my fingers clenching the blanket.
Lincoln High? Transferred last year?
But Sophia had told me Michael’s kid had been eating chips in her car.
A chill shot up from the soles of my feet, freezing my breath.
I forced a smile and nodded.
“Convenient, then. That’s good.”