"Luna, please, don't divorce Horace—"

She reached for my hand the second she walked in. I kept my face cold and pulled away.

Katherine's hand drew back.

She sniffled, her voice catching.

"Yesterday wasn't what you think. I just lost my job, I couldn't make rent, and I had nowhere else to turn, so I went to Horace to borrow money."

"He chewed me out, didn't lend me a cent, told me to get lost."

She looked at me, her eyes so sincere you couldn't find a single crack in them.

"Luna, Horace really loves you. You know how he is with me—he won't even give me a civil look."

I leaned back in my chair and watched her perform.

If I hadn't seen those receipts last night.

I might have fallen for that pitiful face all over again.

I said, "Is that so? He didn't lend you anything?"

Katherine nodded over and over. "Really, he didn't! He's so harsh with me, why would he ever give me money?"

The door to the meeting room swung open.

Horace stood in the doorway, out of breath.

The moment he was inside, his first instinct was to rush to Katherine and pull her behind him.

The move came too naturally. He didn't even have to think.

He turned his head, frowning, and glared at me.

"Luna Simmons, if you've got a problem, take it out on me. What kind of person drags her to the office just to corner her?"

I watched Horace shield Katherine behind him, and I laughed.

Out loud.

The room was quiet, and the laugh landed wrong in it.

Horace froze.

He frowned, his voice climbing higher.

"What's so funny? Katherine's an airhead, why bother fighting with her?"

Even now, he still had to put her down to keep his distance.

I stood, picked up the cup of hot coffee that had just been poured on the table.

Walked over to the trash can by the wall.

Tilted my hand.

The brown liquid poured out over the wastepaper inside, steam rising off it.

I said, "Horace, let's get divorced."

The room went silent.

The impatience drained from Horace's face. He just stood there, stunned.

He let out a cold scoff.

"Luna Simmons, what's gotten into you? You want a divorce over something this petty?"

He stepped forward, his tone softening.

"All right, stop it. I know you were heated last night. I always said Katherine was a nuisance—just ignore her from now on and it's fine."

Behind him, Katherine's face went white for an instant.

But I saw it clearly: the hand Horace held behind his back gave Katherine's fingers a gentle squeeze.

In front of me, he held me up as his wife and ground Katherine under his heel. Behind my back, the two of them were sneaking around together.

I turned, said nothing more, pulled the door open, and walked out of the room.

Horace's furious shout came from behind me.

"Luna Simmons! Are you done throwing your fit or not!"

I didn't look back.

I took the afternoon off and went straight to the bank.

For two years, Horace had been telling me he was saving money.

He said he wanted to trade up for a bigger place in a good school district, somewhere convenient for our kids to go to school someday.

So I'd covered every expense in the house.

Mortgage, car payment, water, electricity, gas—even his daily coffee came out of my paycheck.

His own paycheck account, I'd never once checked.

Sitting at the teller's window, I slid his ID and our marriage certificate across.

"I'd like to print the last two years of statements on this account."

After a moment, the teller handed back a thick stack of paper.

I sat on the long bench in the lobby and read it line by line.

The further I read, the colder my hands went.

There were no savings.

Not a single cent.

Page after page, all of it big spending.

Past the designer-store charges, the one that jumped out was a fixed transfer every month. Twelve hundred dollars.

The recipient was listed as the South End apartment property management office.

Katherine had posted it once on her socials.

That high-end apartment of hers, the one with floor-to-ceiling windows and a river view, was in the South End.

Horace had taken my money and rented Katherine that apartment.

I kept scrolling.

Six months ago, he'd bought a personal accident insurance policy. Three million dollars.

In the beneficiary line, one name.

Katherine.

My fingers slowly went stiff.

The edge of the paper bit into my palm and left a thin red line.

Five years. All of it a joke.

I rode the subway to work every day to save a few dollars on cab fare. He was paying twelve hundred a month in rent for Katherine. When my stomach ached, he said I deserved it for never eating on time. Meanwhile he was buying Katherine a three-million-dollar policy, laying out money for her even after he was dead.

I folded that page of statements and tucked it into my bag.

Zipped it shut. Every last bit of feeling, gone.

My phone buzzed.

A voice message from Mrs. Abbott.

"Luna, dear, this weekend is my sixtieth birthday dinner. Horace booked a private room at The Grand Harbor. Come early and help me look after the guests, all right?"

Right after, a message from Horace too.

【It's Mom's birthday. Don't bring your mood in front of your elders. Whatever it is, we'll talk at home.】

I looked at the words on the screen and tugged at the corner of my mouth.

Talk at home?

No need.

He liked putting on a show this much, so I'd build him a stage big enough.

Let him perform to his heart's content.

I sent back one word: 【Fine.】

The weekend.

The Grand Harbor was one of the finest restaurants in the city.

When I pushed open the door to the largest private room, it was already full.

Every aunt and cousin on Horace's side was there.

I looked up and saw Katherine right away.

She'd worn a gentle, beige long dress today, sitting at Horace's left hand, smiling as she topped off Mrs. Abbott's tea.

The two of them were close, Katherine's shoulder almost touching Horace's arm.

Mrs. Abbott was all smiles, patting Katherine's hand.

Then she turned, saw me, and the smile cooled at once.

"So you finally showed up? What kind of daughter-in-law strolls in at the last minute and leaves an outsider to handle the birthday?"

I let the jab go and walked straight to the empty seat across the round table, pulling out the chair.

Horace watched me, frowning.

When he saw I didn't blow up, he slipped right back into the same well-worn face.

He pointed at Katherine, in that disgusted tone I'd heard for five years. "Mom, don't say things like that. She's the one who insisted on coming, no shame about it. I couldn't get rid of her if I tried."

Katherine bit her lip, her eyes reddening with hurt on the spot.

A few relatives rushed to smooth it over.

"Oh, come on, Katherine's just being thoughtful. Horace, stop being so harsh with the girl."

Horace gave a cold snort, the picture of reluctance.

I leaned back in my chair and watched them perform.

Just as the server was about to bring out the food.

I opened my bag and took out a stack of papers.

A flick of the wrist.

The pages spread across the glass lazy Susan in the center of the table.

I reached out and spun it.

Those bank statements, each stamped with a red fingerprint, came around to a stop right in front of Horace.

The noisy room went quiet all at once.

"Twelve hundred a month in rent. Tens of thousands in designer bag transfers over six months."

I looked at Horace's white face across the table.

"Even the beneficiary on a three-million policy is her name."

My voice wasn't loud, but no one in the room was speaking, and every word came through clear.

"Horace, is this how you get rid of her?"

Every pair of eyes snapped to that pile of paper.

Mrs. Abbott's face flushed a deep purple, her lips trembling, unable to get a word out.

Horace sat without moving, lips bloodless.

He stared at the statements, and for a long moment couldn't force out a single word.

"Luna, let me explain—"

Katherine stood up, the color drained from her face.

She backed away in a panic, tears falling without stop.

"That was borrowed... I really only borrowed it..."

She backed into the corner, her heel caught on the edge of the carpet.

She went down backward.

Her forehead struck the corner of the tea table.

Blood ran down her face and dripped onto the carpet.

She curled on the floor, clutching her stomach, and screamed.

"Horace! My stomach hurts so much... our baby..."

Horace's eyes went red in an instant.

He spun and rushed at me, raising his hand.

A slap landed across my face, my ear ringing.

He stared at me, but the words that came out turned my heart to ice.