He handed me a small velvet pouch.
Inside was a locket.
The photo inside showed the children hugging me at the lake last summer. Darla had taken it.
“She trusted you,” he added softly.
On the drive home, something kept bothering me.
Why had she hidden the diagnosis from her husband?
The answer came unexpectedly.
One afternoon, Molly showed me a drawing she had made months ago.
Four children. Mommy. Daddy.
And another woman labeled “Mommy 2.”
I felt my chest tighten.
Carefully, I asked her about it.
She said it was a lady who used to visit when Darla was at work. A lady Daddy hugged. One day Mommy yelled, and the lady stopped coming.
I spoke to a neighbor.
Her name was Jessica. The nanny.
I eventually found her.
She admitted the affair.
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