Chapter 2

Sophie is so hungry she eats every last bite of her bagel, even the crumbs.

Across from us, Bella takes one bite of her poached egg and throws a tantrum.

“Mommy, this is gross. I want cake!”

The woman sighs and pulls out her phone.

“Okay, okay, I’ll call Daddy. He can grab something on his way home.”

Nate hates being interrupted at work.

Once, during an ice storm, Sophie’s fever shot up to 104 degrees. I was sobbing on the phone, begging him to come help me get her to the ER.

I called seventeen times. He hit “decline” seventeen times.

But now, the phone barely rings once before he picks up.

“Hey, baby, what’s up? Missing me already?” Nate’s voice comes through soft as a lullaby.

She tells him what cake she wants in a sugary little voice, then hangs up and covers her mouth, giggling.

“He’s getting one for each of us. He insists on spoiling me like I’m the kid too. Honestly, what am I gonna do with him?”

Sophie coughs. Her little face goes red from the effort.

That night in the ice storm, Sophie didn’t get treated in time. By the time I got her help, it had turned into pneumonia. It left her with permanent scarring in her lungs.

I rub Sophie’s back gently and feel something cold settle in my chest.

“That must be nice,” I say.

The woman’s smile widens.

“With all that luggage, are you staying in this building too? ”

I stammer.

“I’m meeting someone. Waiting for him to get off work…”

“Oh, so maybe we’ll be neighbors!” She lights up.

“I’m actually waiting on my husband too. Why don’t we let the girls play in the courtyard while we wait together?”

Every part of me wants to run from this table.

But Sophie doesn’t want to leave. She’s staring, wide-eyed, at Bella’s bubble wand as shiny bubbles float all around them.

Sophie hasn’t had a real chance to play in so long, and I don’t have the heart to pull her away.

A few minutes later, the woman leads us out of the café and into the building’s courtyard playground.

The two girls hit it off instantly.

She tells me her name is Tiffany and drops onto a bench, patting the spot beside her.

“God, this sun is brutal.”

She fluffs her hair, complaining, her chrome nails catching the light.

Then her eyes land on my hands, folded in my lap.

“Oh my God, what happened to your hands?”

I look down at my hands. Rough, sun-darkened, and scarred, with split knuckles that never seem to heal.

“Housework,” I say flatly, tucking them into my sleeves.

“If your family lives here, they can afford help. Have your husband hire you some help already. Mine hired two people, one to cook, one for the kids.”

“Runs us about five grand a month, but it’s worth every penny.”

My eyes sting. My chest goes tight.

His father needs medications ground and mixed twice a day.His mother, paralyzed after a stroke, has to be turned and bathed.

I once asked Nate if we could hire a home health aide. In our town it was only fifteen hundred.

He shut me down flat.

“My parents trust you. No stranger’s going to be as careful as you are.”

“You handle them at home so I can focus out here.”

Tiffany catches the look on my face and tries to soften it.

“Honestly, my father-in-law has cancer, and my mother-in-law is bedridden after a stroke too.”

“But they’re the sweetest people! Told me not to worry, just focus on Bella and myself.”

“They said they hired a caregiver back home. Super efficient, apparently, and only about eight hundred dollars a month.”

“…A caregiver?” My hands go cold.

So his parents know. They have known about Tiffany the whole time.

Six years of caring for them. Six years on eight hundred dollars a month. And to them, I’m just the help.

“Chloe, listen, I’m gonna be honest with you,” Tiffany says, patting my hand.

“A woman’s gotta learn to look out for herself. You can’t be too nice. Follow a man’s money, and you’ll find his heart.”

I hear her words, and they feel absurd.

Follow a man’s money, and you’ll find his heart.

Right. Nate’s money has all gone to her and her daughter.

His heart left me a long time ago.