ISABEL
I'm reviewing quarterly projections when I notice the envelope. It's sitting in the center of my desk, plain white, letter-sized, and with no markings. It's not stamped or labeled, just... there.
I don't remember it being there when I left for my meeting an hour ago. My heart rate picks up slightly as I reach for it. It's probably nothing, a memo from HR, maybe, or something Maya left while I was gone.
I tear it open.
Inside is a single sheet of paper, typed.
Anonymous.
I know what you're doing. f*****g them both. Playing them against each other while you pretend to be the innocent victim of a bad marriage. You should add a third. I bet I'd make you scream louder than they ever could.
The paper slips from my fingers, fluttering to the desk. My heart is pounding now, and blood
