Gentleness becoming correction.
Memory becoming negotiable.
“Maybe,” I said.
“I sent some documents too. You signed them.”
My heart beat once, hard.
“What documents?”
“Just authorizations. Nothing serious. The accountant has copies.”
Miriam’s warning echoed in my mind.
“Can you send them to me?”
A faint laugh. “Right now? I’m traveling.”
“When you can.”
“Of course.”
Another pause.
“Is something wrong?”
I looked at my reflection in the window. Pale face. Dark eyes. A woman learning, in real time, how not to reveal herself.
“No,” I said. “I’m just tired.”
His voice warmed again. “Sleep tonight. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
I forced the words out.
“I love you too.”
When the call ended, I did not cry.
Instead, I opened my notes app and wrote down everything he had said.
Then I emailed it to myself.
Then to Miriam.
By seven o’clock, the bank confirmed the pending transfer had been placed under review.
At seven-thirty, Grace texted again.
“Melanie is missing.”
