Chapter 2 - A Door That Wouldn't Open
I pulled my suitcase toward the front doors. Nathan caught up before I reached them.
"Don't walk out angry. It's almost midnight."
"Then let me leave before it gets any later."
He took the suitcase handle. I refused to release it. For one ridiculous second we stood like children arguing over a toy. He finally stepped aside, but when I pulled the door open, the electronic lock flashed red.
Rosa had lived on the property since I was twelve. She'd made soup after Grandmother's funeral, sewn a button onto my wedding dress, and stood at the kitchen window waiting when Nathan's flights were late. She knew all our silences. When she offered to make up the spare bed, I apologized for waking her. She gave me a stern look. "Never apologize for coming to someone who loves you," she said. I had forgotten how it felt to be cared for without a price attached. The guesthouse smelled of cinnamon and clean laundry. For the first time that night, I could unclench my jaw.
"Security setting," he said too quickly.
"Since when does our front door need your approval?"
Vanessa watched from beneath the chandelier. "Maybe you should listen to him, Claire."
"You don't get to use my name."
I crossed to the wall panel and typed the code I'd used for five years. ACCESS DENIED. I tried my mother's birthday, then the backup code. Nothing.
"Nathan." I turned around. "Unlock the door."
He looked wounded. "I'm trying to protect you from making a scene."
"You already made one. You just didn't think I'd see it."
The side door to the garden was unlocked. I remembered it because the landscaper always complained that its latch stuck. I carried the suitcase through, my robe brushing cold stone. Nathan called after me. I kept walking to the guesthouse, where our longtime housekeeper, Rosa, had her own apartment.
Rosa opened on the second knock. One glance at my face and she stepped aside.
"Mija, what happened?"
I told her about the necklace. I couldn't say the word affair. Not yet.
Rosa sat me at her kitchen table and poured water. "You need to see something."
From a drawer she took a folded inventory sheet for Whitmore House. It listed antiques, artwork, jewelry, family gifts. Beside my sapphire necklace was a new notation: PROPERTY OF V. HALE, transferred by N. Whitmore.
"He gave her my jewelry on paper?"
"It gets worse." Rosa pointed to the bottom. My signature appeared under CONSENT OF SPOUSE.
May you like
I had never signed it.
