REVECCA’S POV
I waited until Edmund left for the office.
Seven-forty-two, the same time he always left, the pattern I had been tracking for three weeks with the specific attention that had replaced the ordinary spousal awareness of a person’s habits. I heard the front door. I heard the gate. I waited for the sound of the car, his car, the dark one he drove himself when he wanted to think rather than being driven. pulling out of the driveway and into the street.
Then I went to my desk.
I had been planning this for eleven days. Not obsessively, not with the nervous energy of someone approaching something dangerous, but with the methodical patience of a woman who understood that the first move in a sequence was the one that set the tone for everything that followed. If it was clean it
