Chapter 18: Gwen

I told the rideshare driver to wait.

Then I put my hand in my coat pocket, found my phone by feel, and started the voice recorder.

Gwen got out of the gray sedan and crossed the street in low heels.

She wore the soft cardigan and the same warm face she had worn for four years.

"Lydia," she said. "You look so tired. Let me take you for coffee."

"You followed me to Evanston."

"I followed the car Elias booked for you. It's on a tracker." She smiled. "He's not as careful as he thinks."

I stood on the sidewalk with the envelope against my ribs.

"Give it to me," Gwen said gently. "Whatever he gave you. Helen will pay you fairly."

"Is that what you came to say?"

"It's what I came to say nicely."

"Then say it the other way."

She looked at the little brick house, and at the plastic reindeer, and something in her face switched off.

It was like watching a lamp go out in a room I had lived in.

"All right," she said.

Her voice was the same, but it had no sugar in it anymore.

"I've been reporting on you since your wedding day," Gwen said.

"Every lunch, every call, every trip down to the basement."

"I know."

"You don't know the half of it."

She leaned on her car.

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