Adrian didn't sleep.
He sat in the dark living room, the fireplace cold, his phone face-down on the arm of the couch. The clock on the mantel ticked past midnight. Then one. Then two.
He thought about Nina. About her hands, her voice, the way she said his name. He thought about Vanessa. About the years of silence, the slow death of their marriage. He thought about Derek — his brother, who had been sleeping with his wife, who had looked him in the eye and lied.
Everyone lied, he realized. Everyone.
He picked up his phone. Scrolled to Derek's contact.
I know, he typed. About you and Vanessa.
He stared at the message. His thumb hovered over send.
Then he deleted it.
Not yet, he thought. One thing at a time.
---
Vanessa woke to a text from an unknown number.
Mrs. Cross, this is Fran
