The fuse that had been lit in Simon’s Film Lab reached his fragile self-control, and Daniel exploded. He jumped to his feet, his voice shrieking from him. “I can’t stop it. Do you hear me?”

He flung open the door and sprinted from the practice, leaving Anna standing in a reception area without a group photo, a receptionist, or a business partner.

Thirty-Eight

Kelly’s knee bounced in time with the ticking clock that carved off the seconds outside Principal Rhodes’s office. Her call to Daniel went to voice mail for the third time in five minutes. There was no point leaving another message. She shook her head at the elderly woman behind the counter and received back an unamused smile.

She had to find out what was going on with her husband. She speed-dialed another familiar number.

“Crossroads Counseling. This is Jade.”

“Jade, it’s Kelly Whiteley—”

“So wonderful to speak with you! Thank you so much for the warm hospitality and your amazing food. You have all been wonderful to me in a difficult time—”

Kelly laid out the pieces for the conversation she would have to have, as difficult as it might be.

“—but I’m afraid you’ve just missed Daniel.”

Kelly took a giant breath, more than anything to inflate her confidence so she could speak to the person who—and this cut deep to even acknowledge—knew Daniel better than anyone.

“That’s okay. I’m not calling for Daniel. Could you put me through to Anna, please?”

“One moment.”

Simon would be no help without whatever this sacred contract was. Only one option was left.

The on-hold music cut with an abrupt jolt. “Kelly, I’m glad you’ve called. I’m worried about Daniel.”

The first wave in her plan of attack stalled before it began as Anna stole Kelly’s opening line. “Looks like we both are.” She summoned forward her first line of attack troops, although now it felt more like defense. She turned away from the counter and cupped her hand around the phone as her voice dropped into a whisper. “First, I need to clear the air between me and Daniel’s work.”

A practiced silence. Professional. There was no other way to say it than to just get to the point. “Anna, is Daniel cheating behind my back with anyone at work?”

She braced herself for a defensive justification or a changing of the subject. She got neither.

“No, he isn’t.”

The answer to a question that drained her of emotional energy forced her voice into a whisper. “Thank you.”

“I’m a little put out you thought you needed to ask me.”

“I had to ask. Daniel spends so much time buried in work, and he no longer talks at home.”

“He’s expressed frustration to me a number of times, saying he has answered that question but you didn’t want to listen.”