Greenway Field is a massive, modern concert-and-event venue twenty-three miles south of Chicago in an otherwise dusty town called Prairie Hills. I’d been there once before when I had won tickets on the radio to the station’s annual Summer Soul Fest, and I’d dragged Vanessa along with me.

This was different. As we pulled into the congested parking lot, Vanessa cursed out loud and leaned forward, peering at the woman in bright yellow who was directing the carloads of eager fans.

“Where the hell does she want me to go?” she asked, squinting at the woman. “She is literally pointing in both directions!”

“That’s the universal sign for it’s up to you, Mom,” Vanessa’s thirteen-year-old daughter, Jen, said from the back seat.

I turned my head to look at her and smiled as she rolled her eyes.

For a woman with very few filters, Vanessa tended to drive like a student driver, something Jen constantly gave her grief about.

Releasing her grip from the ten and two positions, Vanessa chose the aisle on the right and turned in to find a space. We parked and began the trek across the parking lot, which was really just a big, open field with some ropes that added little order to the chaos. Around us, hordes of people shuffled along toward the structure that loomed in front of us with the promise of one thing only—hours of pure pop fun/torture, depending on why you were there. Groups of teenage girls squealed in delight as parents walked along behind them like zombies. Not for the first time, I wondered what I was doing there.

I’d been toying around with the idea of asking for a reward ever since Vanessa had told me about the concert tickets. It seemed ridiculous, yet there was a part of me that couldn’t shake it, couldn’t help but wonder what he’d say if I just asked.

I’d seen them that night.

I knew what he’d done, and how much he didn’t want his wife to know.

And the phone was my evidence.

As we walked through security, I was surprised to see that the excitement on Vanessa’s face seemed to rival that of her daughter. I shouldn’t have been so surprised after her reaction in the bathroom when I told her about Ryan Hooks or when we found his phone in the trunk of my car. I had been shocked when she told me about the tickets, but I was a little excited too. I knew I shouldn’t be. He was a celebrity who was cheating on his wife. Of course, he’d flirted with me. He’d probably flirt with a spoon, if the circumstances were right.

Still, I wanted to see him again, wanted to be in the same room with him, and, for some strange reason I couldn’t explain, wanted him to know that I knew.