Sharon drove down to Tampines after dinner and ascended the steps to the second level where the blackmailer lived. The young man was bleary-eyed when he answered the door, as though he had been sleeping. But the lethargy of somnolence quickly disappeared. It was pure alarm and trepidation as he regarded her with uncertainty.

“Let me in. Please,” Sharon pleaded.

After Sharon sat down, the young man asked if she wanted a drink. Sharon shook her head. She was here for only one thing. She wanted to know what the discussion the previous night at Rocky Pizza was about.

The regret came a moment later. Sharon wished she had asked for a drink; her throat felt parched as she stared in shock at the photo on the mobile phone—Elvis on a beach chair, his head of white glimmering under the sun, his chin resting on her husband’s shoulder, his lips on her husband’s neck.

Elvis was the one who had left the single strand of white hair on her hairbrush.

Sharon felt like retching. She had entertained the idea and learnt to accept that her husband desired another woman more than he did her. But not in a million years would she have guessed that her husband desired a man, sexually and emotionally. So Elvis was the one Yu Chin was in a relationship with! Sharon recalled all the weekend diving trips the two of them arranged at short notice; those were their Brokeback moments! How could she have been so blind?

Sharon found herself driving around aimlessly afterwards. She needed time to sort out her confusion. But her mind was in too much of a swirl to allow for clear thinking. She should talk to someone—but who? Sharon realised with bitterness that she had no close friends. There was no one she could share this secret with without repercussions.

But wait…there was one.

I need to meet you tonight, Christina. It’s urgent.

Christina’s texted reply came quickly. Can’t. I have a massage scheduled.

Sharon decided to apply a shock tactic. Elvis is having an affair.

It took Christina three seconds to reply: Meet me at D9 Cakery, Hilton Hotel. Thirty minutes.

Sharon felt calmer after she sipped her hazelnut latte. The range of pastries at D9 Cakery was astounding but she was in no mood for dessert. She sat up straight when Christina strode in with her usual assured gait. She wondered if Christina had any inkling at all.

“Tell me what you know.”

Sharon tapped her way to the incriminating photo and passed Christina her mobile phone. Christina took one glance and frowned.

“How did you get hold of this?”

There was no element of surprise.

“Did you know?”

“Of course.”

Sharon stared at the woman, her mouth agape. Christina knew, and she had known even back when she and Elvis had set her up with Yu Chin.

“You’re married to Elvis. And this doesn’t bother you?”