Diane stayed, but something in her posture made it clear she understood everything had changed. Walter asked for her keys. She handed them over.
An hour later, after Amanda left and Walter retreated to his study, Robert and I tucked Sophie into the guest room because she refused to sleep alone. She held his wrist until she drifted off.
In the dim light, I looked at him. “Why didn’t you tell me when the envelope came?”
He sat on the edge of the bed. “Because I knew the lie would hurt you, even if you knew it wasn’t true. And I needed one chance to expose it before they buried it under excuses.”
I studied him, then nodded. I was still hurt he carried it alone, but I understood why.
Downstairs, the clock struck ten.
As we stepped into the hallway, Robert took my hand. “They regretted it five minutes after they started,” he said quietly.
I glanced back at the door where Sophie slept.
“No,” I said. “They regretted getting caught. What they lost tonight—that came after.”
And in that silent, expensive house in the northern suburbs of Chicago, everyone finally understood the price.
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