My sister kissed my husband in front of thirty people at her own anniversary party and called it a joke. kertati Her husband had a wrapped present in his hands and an envelope she had never opened.

“Read it.”

I opened it.

Inside was a hotel receipt.

Same hotel.

Same town.

Different date.

But the room was booked under Callan’s name.

And the second guest was listed as:

Bryony Wick.

I stared at it.

“I’ve never been here.”

“I know.”

Bram nodded.

“They used your name.”

“Why?”

“Because they thought nobody would question a room booked under your name.”

I felt sick.

“Did they actually stay there?”

“I don’t know.”

“Then why keep the receipt?”

“Because Callan paid with a card linked to your account.”

I looked up.

“What?”

Bram’s face was grim.

“Check your bank records.”

I grabbed my phone.

I searched the account.

There it was.

A payment.

A hotel.

A date I had been home with the children.

My hands started shaking.

“They used my name.”

“Yes.”

“But why?”

Bram hesitated.

“I think they were preparing for something.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.”

I looked at the receipt again.

Then I remembered the messages.

The house.

The money.

The phrase:

I’ll handle it.

Suddenly, this wasn’t only about an affair.

They had been planning something.

---

PART 6 — THE HOUSE

The next morning, I confronted Callan.

I placed the hotel receipt on the kitchen table.

He looked at it.