My husband said he was “on a business trip” — but when I went to the hospital to visit my sick friend, I suddenly heard his voice behind the door… and what I heard chilled me to the bone

The next morning, Albany greeted me with pale sunlight and a bitter wind that cut through my coat. I didn’t feel the cold. I felt focused.

Marcus had already arranged everything. A locksmith van was parked discreetly across from the small colonial house I owned — the one I had so generously let Megan “borrow” when she said she needed a fresh start. Two private security officers waited nearby, dressed like ordinary contractors.

At 8:17 a.m., Andrew’s Range Rover pulled into the driveway.

So much for Chicago.

He stepped out first, sunglasses on, phone pressed to his ear. Megan followed slowly, one hand resting theatrically on her stomach. She looked radiant — not sick, not fragile. Just smug.

I stayed inside my car and watched.

Andrew tried the front door.

The key didn’t work.

He frowned and tried again.

Nothing.

Megan said something I couldn’t hear, but her body language shifted from relaxed to irritated.

That was my cue.

I stepped out of the car.

The sound of my heels against the pavement made Andrew turn.

The color drained from his face.

“Isabella?” he stammered. “What are you doing here?”

I tilted my head slightly. “Funny. I was about to ask you the same thing. I thought you were in Chicago.”