“There always is.”
“I accessed the public records and spoke with someone at the resource center. Evelyn doesn’t hide. She’s known in the neighborhood. People trust her.”
I almost smiled, though there was nothing funny about it.
“She always wanted to help people.”
“I know.”
“Does Julian work at the same clinic?”
“No. But he volunteers at the resource center on weekends. He helps with medical referrals and children’s health screenings.”
I turned toward the window.
The image formed too easily: Evelyn laughing with him while he carried the children inside. Julian kneeling to zip Lily’s coat. Julian answering the phone and calling Evelyn his wife.Ex-wife tracking services
A life that had continued without me.
Perhaps that was what I deserved.
The car stopped outside the Fairmont Street address just after four. The rain had thinned
to a mist, and the brownstone stood between two narrow buildings with bright window boxes and bicycles chained to the railings.
Warm light glowed behind the curtains on the second floor.
I remained in the car.
Marcus opened his door.
“Are you coming?”
“I don’t know.”
He studied me. “You crossed three states.”
“That doesn’t mean I know what to say.”
“You don’t have to say everything tonight.”
“What do I say when she opens the door?”
“The truth.”
I gave him a tired look. “You make it sound simple.”Get Writing Tools
“It isn’t. But lying would make it worse.”
I stepped out into the cold.
The front gate creaked beneath my hand. I walked up the stone steps slowly, each one making my chest tighter. At the door, I stared at a brass plaque engraved with three names.
Evelyn Hart.
Julian Hart.
Lily and Samuel Hart.
Four names.
There was no
room for Adrian Moretti.
I raised my hand and knocked.
For several seconds, nothing happened.
Then footsteps approached.
The door opened, and I saw Julian Hart.
