Chapter 5: Ladies' Night

Bancroft walked down the aisle of the diner with his arms open.

"Daphne. Honey. You scared me half to death."

The friend with the phone stayed by the door and kept filming.

"How did you find me?" I said.

Bancroft tapped his own pocket and smiled.

My phone sat in my purse, where Samson had told me to keep it.

I took it out, dropped it into the full glass of water in front of me, and watched it go dark.

"Now you can't," I said.

Bancroft laughed, warm and sad, for the room.

"Everyone," he said, turning to the other tables. "I'm sorry. My wife's been under a lot of strain. She hasn't been sleeping. She's not herself."

A man in a booth by the window put his fork down.

"I'm taking her home," Bancroft said gently.

"No, you're not," I said, and stood up.

I looked at the friend with the phone.

"Keep filming," I said. "Get all of it."

Bancroft's smile stayed on, but his eyes changed.

I turned to the diner.

Thirty people were watching, and a waitress had stopped with the coffee pot in the air.

"You all just heard him call me sick," I said. "Read what he wrote to these women instead."

Nobody made a sound.

I pointed at the four women in the booth.

"Every one of them has his messages. Ask what he told them I wanted."

The first woman stood up beside me with her phone raised.

The woman from year four stood up on the other side.

Then year seven, then year nine.

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