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Chapter 38

Samantha

Three weeks later, I pulled up to the boys’ new school and killed the engine, forcing myself to sound excited as I turned to Seth and Luke in the backseat. “Okay, you two. Big day. You ready?”

Seth gave a small nod. “Yeah, Mom.”

Luke bounced in his seat, eyes wide with excitement. “What if the other kids don’t like me?”

“They’re gonna love you,” I said, reaching back to squeeze his knee. “Just be yourself. And Luke, be good today, okay? Listen to your teachers, keep your hands to yourself, and try to make at least one new friend.”

“I will,” he promised, already unbuckling.

I walked them inside, hugged them both a little too tightly, and watched until they disappeared into their classrooms. The principal, Ms. Hargrove, met me in the hallway.

“Mrs. Kincaid, their teachers have everything they need, we’ll call you if anything comes up.”

I lingered near the classroom doors anyway, peering through the narrow windows. Seth sat near the back, already observing the other kids with that careful distance he carried everywhere. Luke was in the front row, chattering animatedly to the boy beside him, gesturing with both hands the way he always did when something thrilled him. My heart twisted. They looked so small in those desks, so hopeful.

Ms. Hargrove touched my arm gently. “You really don’t need to stay, you know. They adjust better when parents don’t hover. Go treat yourself. Get a coffee or run some errands. They’ll be fine.”

“I just… I worry,” I admitted.

She nodded sympathetically. “Every good mother does. I promise you, if anything comes up, you’ll be the first call. Now go on. Enjoy the quiet while you have it.”

I left with a knot in my stomach, telling myself it was just normal mom worry. I hoped the boys would have a good day, that this fresh start might actually stick for them even if everything else felt like it was crumbling.

Richard had been coming home later and later these past few weeks, slipping out after dark with vague explanations about “work.” I assumed there was another affair, the same old pattern that had hollowed out our marriage years ago.

Usually, after dropping Seth and Luke off at school, I would head to my art class and lose myself in paint for a few hours of peace.

After leaving the boys at school, I started the drive home. As I turned onto our street, I saw Richard’s car pulling away from the house. He never looked in my direction. I gripped the steering wheel, watching him disappear around the corner. For a moment, I told myself to keep driving. Go to the art studio. Pretend none of this mattered.

Instead, I turned the wheel and followed him. If he was lying again, if he was having another affair, I wanted proof before I spent another day pretending everything was fine.

I stayed several cars back, my heart hammering against my ribs.

He didn’t head toward the office. Instead, he turned onto a side street and pulled into a small coffee shop on the edge of town.

I parked across the street, half hidden behind a delivery van, and watched.

A blonde woman in her mid-twenties stepped out of the coffee shop and walked straight to Richard’s passenger door like she’d been expecting him. He leaned over, flashed that charming smile that still worked on me sometimes, and she slid inside willingly.

My stomach dropped.

“Wow, again,” I whispered, shaking my head. The hurt bloomed, but I didn’t cry. I followed.

The route grew stranger the farther we went. Suburban streets gave way to an industrial district. Boarded warehouses lined the cracked road. Weeds swallowed the chain-link fences. Why would he bring her here for an affair? The question gnawed at me. Maybe it was thrill-seeking. Maybe he’d grown bored with hotel rooms and lies.

Richard parked beside a squat, windowless building that looked like it had been abandoned for years. The woman got out with him, still smiling, and followed him to a side door. They disappeared inside. The heavy metal door clanged shut behind them.

Half an hour passed, then another fifteen minutes. No one came back out. A cold unease began to crawl up my spine.

Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

I should have driven away. Instead, I slipped out of my car, my legs trembling as I crossed the cracked pavement toward the abandoned warehouse. Every instinct told me to leave, but I couldn’t. I had to know why Richard had brought her here.

I crept along the side of the building until I noticed a narrow gap where one of the warped wooden boards had pulled away from the window frame. It wasn’t much. Just enough to see through if I leaned close.