Nothing dramatic.
Tired.
A little fever.
She slept beside me.
Arthur complained that she was kicking him.
He moved to the guest room.
The next morning she seemed fine.
I had almost forgotten.
“Arthur knew Chloe had been unwell.”
Miriam looked at me sharply.
“Did he?”
“Yes.”
I closed my eyes.
Had he understood how sick she might become?
No.
I refused to make that leap without evidence.
But he knew she had a fever.
And he left anyway.
Julian cleared his throat.
“There’s one more thing.”
He placed a printed document on the table.
A network access log.
I did not understand it.
“What is this?”
“Arthur accessed his Sterling email from the Miami hotel.”
“So?”
“His laptop was active the entire week.”
My skin prickled.
“He told me his phone was off.”
“His phone may have been.”
Julian pointed to the page.
“But his computer wasn’t.”
