Chapter 3

Julian went on another business trip a week later.

He said he was going to Boston for a project delivery.

The morning he left, he was putting on his shoes in the entryway. I handed him a travel mug.

"I made you chamomile tea for the road."

"You're the best." He took it, leaning down to kiss my forehead. "I'm off. I'll call you when I land."

The door closed. I stood by the window and watched him put his suitcase into the trunk of his car.

The sedan pulled out of the driveway and turned left.

To go to the airport, he should have turned right.

I had taken the day off.

I didn't tail him. A forensic auditor would spot a tail instantly. That was the stupidest way to do this.

Instead, I looked up Hailey.

Her social security number and full name were printed clearly on the custody agreement. She was a local resident, born in 1996. Her address was listed at Maple Heights.

A forty-minute drive.

Maple Heights was a quiet, average suburban neighborhood. An old oak tree shaded the street, and a few kids' bikes were parked near the entrance.

I sat on a park bench across the street.

At 2:30 PM, a young woman came out of unit 3 with a little boy. She wore a grey fleece jacket, her hair tied in a loose ponytail, holding a reusable grocery bag.

The boy was about three, wearing a bright red puffer jacket, skipping along beside her.

They walked to the local grocery store.

The woman knelt down. "What do you want to eat, sweetie?"

"Apples!"

"We still have apples at home. Pick something else."

"Then... bananas."

"Okay."

Her voice was soft and gentle, the tone of someone living a peaceful, secure life. No tension, no walking on eggshells.

This was Hailey.

I sat there all afternoon.

At 5:40 PM, a dark grey sedan pulled into the driveway. I recognized the license plate.

Julian got out of the driver's seat. He opened the trunk and pulled out two bags of groceries, a gallon of milk, and a small yellow backpack.

He carried the groceries in one hand, tucked the milk under his arm, and hung the backpack over his right shoulder. The movements were so practiced, so fluid, he must have done them thousands of times.

The little boy ran out of the building.

"Daddy!"

Julian dropped the groceries, knelt down, caught the boy in his arms, and swung him high in the air, spinning him around.

"What did you do at school today, buddy?"

"I painted! The teacher taught us how to draw trees! I drew a huge one!"

"Huge? Bigger than Daddy?"

"A hundred times bigger than Daddy!"

Julian laughed.

I had never seen him laugh like that.

It wasn't the smile he gave me—polite, warm, perfectly measured. It was a laugh that came from deep within his bones, completely unguarded, so relaxed he seemed like a different person.

Hailey stood at the doorway. She had flour on her hands and was wearing an apron.

Julian walked over and naturally wrapped his free arm around her waist.

"Let's go inside. It's freezing out here."

The door closed.

The window on the second floor lit up. A warm, yellow glow.

The exact same color temperature as the light in our living room.

One man, two identical lights.

I sat on the bench until it got dark, then I got up and drove home.

When I arrived, my phone rang. It was Julian.

"I just checked into the hotel. It's raining in Boston. Really cold."

"Keep yourself warm."

"What about you? Have you had dinner?"

"Yeah. I made pasta."

"Don't skimp on meals just because I'm not there. There's salmon in the freezer—"

"I know."

He said goodnight and hung up.

I opened the cabinet in the kitchen. Two plates, two sets of forks. I placed them on the table out of habit.

I took out my phone, snapped a photo of the empty seat across from me, and sent it to him.

*Eating alone. Missing you a little.*

He replied with a hugging emoji. *Soon, babe. I’ll be home as soon as the project is over.*

I updated my notes. *Audit Finding 4: Parallel family structure confirmed. Location: Maple Heights, Unit 3. Operation time: ≥ 3 years. Auditee assumes a full household role at this address, including grocery shopping, childcare, and daily companionship.*

He came back on the fourth day. He brought me a yellow duck keychain.

"I saw it at a shop and thought of you."

Yellow.

The exact same yellow as the little backpack.

"So cute. Thank you."

We made love that night.

I kept my eyes open the entire time.

The ceiling was white, the exact same paint we chose three years ago.

He whispered in my ear, "Chloe."

I wondered what he called Hailey.

Afterward, he held me close, his breathing slowing down.

"Julian."

"Hmm?"

"When you're traveling, do you ever miss home?"

"Of course I do. Every single time. I always want to come back early."

"Which home?"

He didn't seem to hear me, already drifting off.

"What did you say?"

"I said, goodnight."

"Goodnight."