“I was trying to understand what he was doing.”
“Why?”
“Because my sister is Melanie Harper.”
That name dropped between us like glass breaking.
For a few seconds, I could not speak.
I had imagined Melanie in fragments: the other woman, the smiling coworker in holiday party photos, the person Lucas texted too late at night, the woman who had taken what was mine. I had not imagined her having a sister. A family. Someone worried enough to follow her.
Grace exhaled shakily.
“Anne, I know what you found on his laptop. I know about the condo. I know about the pregnancy. But there are pieces you don’t have.”
My voice came out quieter than I expected.
“Is Melanie with him?”
“No.”
That surprised me.
“She isn’t?”
“She thinks he’s in Zurich.”
I sat back down.
