At two in the morning, I lay perfectly still while my husband emptied our safe, completely convinced I was asleep.
Before leaving, Daniel leaned over the bed, kissed my forehead, and whispered,
“Poor Audrey. You never saw this coming.”
I waited until the front door clicked shut.
Then I opened my eyes.
Daniel had no idea how wrong he was.
I had spent three weeks waiting for exactly this night.
It began several hours earlier when he came upstairs carrying a cup of tea.
“You look exhausted,” he said gently. “Drink this and get some sleep.”
That alone made me suspicious.
Daniel never made tea.
I wasn’t even sure he knew where we kept the teabags.
I took the smallest sip.
There was a faint bitterness I didn’t recognize.
I couldn’t prove anything from that alone, but after months of strange wire transfers, questionable business trips, and phone conversations that ended the moment I entered the room, I had learned not to ignore things that didn’t make sense.
So I smiled.
Waited until Daniel left.
Then poured the tea into the bathroom sink.
I climbed into bed and pretended to sleep.
About forty minutes later, I heard his footsteps.
I kept my breathing slow and even.
Daniel stood beside the bed for several seconds.
Then he walked into our closet.
A quiet electronic beep followed.
