He hung up, leaving the threat growing between us. He was right. I was losing my mind over this. Forgetting my children. Risking Sydney’s life. Saving Vera wasn’t just about her anymore. It was about saving my marriage, saving my family, saving myself.

Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Marin

Cody noticed everything. He grumbled when I moved his shaving supplies over half an inch to make room for my facial cleanser. He commented when the salad forks were mixed with the dinner forks in the silverware drawer. He could tell when I used a teaspoon of his protein powder. And he most certainly noticed every time my phone beeped with a new text.

Cody was also quite verbal about the things he noticed.

“Mare, your stuff is starting to take over the whole sink,” he’d tease. Or “Mare, just a reminder to separate the different types of forks.” Or “Mare, if you want your own protein powder, I’ll buy you some.” The absolute worst was “Mare, did you change your text notification sound? It doesn’t sound like your usual beep.”

I don’t know when my husband became so observant of the intricacies of conjugal living, but it terrified me what he noticed but hadn’t mentioned. Because someone as observant as Cody couldn’t have missed the glaring signs that I was hiding something. Or when my lies didn’t match up. I had a feeling he knew more than he was letting on when he asked too many questions or came home early from work unexpectedly.

Like he was doing right now.

“I’ll be home late tonight since I’m closing,” he had told me this morning on his way out the door to the car dealership. A kiss and the slam of the front door later, I didn’t know if he was telling the truth or not, since if I was lying to him, the logical conclusion was that he could be lying to me too. I couldn’t track his cell phone, since we had both turned off our location tracking without explanation. Well, my explanation had been that it was draining my battery, but that was just another lie.

It was storming when I ran to my car, dashing through sheets of rain. A bolt of lightning ripped a seam through the freakishly green sky (not a portent of a tornado, I hoped), as I slipped, dripping wet, onto the ripped fabric seat. A peal of thunder shook the air as I swung the door shut. My hand trembled as I inserted the keys—or was that another grumble of thunder shaking the car? Under normal circumstances I would not have driven in this weather. Under normal circumstances I would not have snuck out to avoid Cody finding out. Under normal circumstances I would not have risked everything for this. But this was not normal circumstances. This was murder.