My pulse began to pound.
“What’s inside?”
“I haven’t opened it. I thought you should decide what to do.”
I asked her to bring it to the suite immediately.
Ten minutes later, she arrived carrying a plain white envelope sealed with a strip of clear tape. My name was written across the front in Vanessa’s handwriting.
I opened it carefully.
Inside was a printed photograph of Ethan and Vanessa sitting across from each other at a restaurant. Their heads were close together. Vanessa’s hand rested over his on the table.
On the back, someone had written a sentence in black ink.
Ask your fiancé what happened after midnight on October 3.
I knew the date.
It was the night Ethan had told me he was working late at his office.
And suddenly, the messages he had promised to show me no longer seemed like the only evidence Vanessa had been keeping.
