Page 60 of Happily Ever After

Sophie stood slowly, testing her balance. “I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“If you need anything, just let me know.” Essie watched her head toward the guest room, then heard the soft click of the bathroom door closing behind her.

Alone again, Essie shifted, getting more comfortable and trying to ignore the ache in her heart. Despite Sophie’s coolness and occasional attitude, Essie loved this young woman, even when loving her meant doing nothing at all.

She patted Maple’s head, then got up, retrieved her phone and stepped out onto the back porch, the night air warm against her skin.

Frank answered on the second ring.

“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”

“Sorry for calling so late, but I need to tell you something,” Essie said softly. “I don’t know if Sophie’s going to stay or not. I’m doing my best but⁠—”

“But she’s not easy. I know that. And I know if she leaves, that’s on her, not you. Don’t worry. Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it.”

Essie exhaled. “Okay.”

There wasn’t much more they could do than that.

Chapter Twenty-Five

By the time Robbie turned off the television and stretched, Maude already knew he was going to bed.

She’d been watching him from the corner of her eye while pretending to read an article on her phone, taking note of the familiar signs. The way his blinks were getting longer, the faint yawn he failed to suppress, and the absentminded way he rubbed the back of his neck. Long days of hard work did this to him, even if he claimed they didn’t.

“I’m going to turn in,” he said finally, pushing himself up from the couch. “You going to bed, too?”

“In a bit,” Maude replied. “I want to finish this.”

He stretched, arching his back and yawning again. “Don’t stay up too late.”

“I won’t,” she lied. She had work to do, she just didn’t want to do it in front of him.

With a soft grunt, Robbie headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth. Maude listened as the water ran and then the toilet flushed. He came out and climbed the loft steps. Eventually, the light up there went dark.

She turned the light off by her recliner, then waited another five minutes, just to be sure.

With the soft glow from under the microwave and the dim blue light from Pixel’s nighttime settings, she had more than enough to see by. She pocketed her phone.

The house felt different somehow. Quieter, yes, but also sharper in a way. Like her clandestine intentions were making things clearer.

Or she was just overdramatizing it.

With a stifled laugh, Maude carried her laptop into the bedroom. She carefully closed the door before settling onto the bed. She propped a pillow behind her back and opened the laptop. With the door closed, it didn’t matter if the light from the screen filled the room.

This was when she worked best. She’d always led the best raids at this hour. She was focused and there was little chance of being interrupted.

She opened the document she’d started earlier that day. She glanced at the list of names, dates, and half-formed notes that wouldn’t mean anything to anyone else.

Next, she went to the searches she’d set up. The first results loaded faster than she’d expected.

Maude clicked through them slowly, so she could see how they arranged themselves. The searches were running in neat columns—public records, archived pages, old board listings, and defunct websites. Nothing that immediately screamed scandal.

But the overlap felt anything but coincidental.

She opened one result, then another, then dragged them side by side on the screen. Same language. Same phrases. Different organizations. Different cities.

But most importantly, the same woman. Darcy Lane.