“Why come here tonight, after all these years?”
I could have told her about the invitation Daniel sent by mistake to my old email address. I could have told her about the engagement announcement, about seeing his smiling face in the society pages beside Vanessa’s, under the headline A HERO’S CHRISTMAS PROPOSAL.
I could have told her about Noah asking why his father had never sent a birthday card.
But those were only pieces.
“The boys are old enough now,” I said. “Old enough to ask questions I can’t answer with bedtime stories anymore.”
Marianne nodded, tears slipping down again.
“And the investigators?”
“I didn’t bring them.”
She searched my face.
“I gave a statement three months ago,” I admitted. “About Daniel’s finances during our marriage. About accounts I didn’t recognize. About signatures he asked me to put on forms when I was too exhausted from pregnancy to read them properly.”
