They left without another word. I watched from the window as Ellie stormed to the car, slamming the door. Jacob lingered. He looked back once, but he didn’t come inside.
Three days later, the house listing went back on the market.
They didn’t get it. They moved into a smaller rental across town.
A week later, I received a message request on Facebook from Rachel, Ellie’s younger sister.
Rachel was softer than Ellie, always nervous, always the quiet one at dinners. She once stayed behind to help me clean up after a holiday party while Ellie went upstairs to take selfies in a new dress. The message was brief but its tone felt urgent.
“I know you probably don’t believe anything good about me or my family after what Ellie did, but I’ve been holding this in for too long. I just found out she’s not actually pregnant. She lied to Jacob. She lied to everyone.”
I clicked accept and typed back: “I’m listening.”
Another message came right after. “She found out you canceled the mortgage. She panicked. She told Jacob she was expecting to stop him from cutting her off, but she’s not. I’m sorry. I have proof.”