For several seconds, I couldn’t move.
The person standing beside my husband was my younger sister, Vanessa.
My own sister.
She was wearing a long beige coat, carrying a thick blue folder against her chest, and speaking to Eliam with an expression I had never seen on her face before.
She looked worried.
Eliam reached for her arm.
She stepped back.
Then he said something that made her cover her mouth with one hand.
I couldn’t hear their conversation from across the street, but I didn’t need to. The sight of them together in that unfamiliar building was enough to make my stomach twist.
Vanessa had told me she was leaving town for a few days to visit a friend.
She had called me on Sunday evening, asked about my weekend, and complained that she was exhausted from work. She’d even joked that she needed a vacation from her own life.
Now it was Wednesday morning, and she was standing beside my husband in a place he had supposedly never visited before.
