“Aria hid the box.”
“She thought Clara was leaving me.”
He picked up the photographs.
“Who is this woman?”
“Someone I worked with.”
“Was there an affair?”
“I never touched her.”
“Was there an affair?”
“I didn’t accuse you, Uncle Andrew.”
“Your face did.”
“Then explain.”
Sarah feared losing her job after being treated unfairly, so she asked me to meet privately.
“Did Clara know?” Jackson asked.
“No. It wasn’t my story to tell.”
“You could’ve told her enough.”
“It wasn’t my story to tell.”
I looked away.
***
Years earlier, Clara had asked why I kept coming home late.
“Is there something you need to tell me?” she’d asked.
“Nothing you need to worry about,” I’d said.
At the time, I’d believed silence was honorable.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
Now it sounded like a locked door.
Jackson unfolded Gwen’s letter.
Gwen’s letter gave directions to her home and recommended a motel if the children needed a break.
Clara had taken Aria and Shaun on a short trip to visit her sister.
I had been overwhelmed with work, so they went without me.
When Clara had not called by nine, I phoned Gwen.
Jackson unfolded Gwen’s letter.
“Is Clara there?”
