Chapter 3 - The House in the Woods
~1,100 words
The words hung in the air, chilling me to the absolute bone.
She said she’s going to be my new mommy soon.
I pulled Toby into a fierce hug, burying my face in his soft hair so he wouldn't see the terror flashing across my face.
“You already have a mommy,” I whispered into his ear. “And nobody is ever going to take my place. Okay?”
Toby nodded against my shoulder, oblivious to the earthquake shattering our family foundation. “Okay, Mommy. I’m hungry.”
“Go ask Daddy to make you some mac and cheese,” I said, kissing his forehead.
As Toby trotted downstairs, I stood up, gripping the silver charm bracelet so tightly the metal bit into my palm.
Chloe.
Her name was Chloe, she was twenty-three years old, she wore my jewelry, and she was actively telling my five-year-old son that she was replacing me.
This wasn't just a physical affair. This was a hostile takeover of my entire life.
I walked to the window and looked down at the driveway. Gregory’s sleek black Audi was parked perfectly in its usual spot. He was a meticulous man. He tracked our budget on a spreadsheet, ironed his own socks, and kept his car in pristine condition.
If Chloe had been in that car, she might have left something else behind.
I waited until I heard the clatter of pots and pans from the kitchen, signaling that Gregory was busy making dinner. I slipped out the back door, clutching my keys, and walked quietly to his car.
The doors unlocked with a soft chirp.
I opened the passenger side and began searching. I checked the glove compartment. Nothing but registration and insurance papers. I checked the center console. Mints, charging cables, and a pair of sunglasses.
I was about to give up when my eyes caught a tiny slip of paper wedged deep between the passenger seat and the center console.
I reached down, scraping my knuckles against the plastic, and pulled it free.
It was a toll road receipt.
Dated three days ago. A Tuesday. A day Gregory had claimed he was stuck at the accounting firm until 9:00 PM for tax season preparation.
The toll booth was located forty miles north, in a wealthy, secluded mountain community called Pinehaven. It was an area known for sprawling, multi-million-dollar cabins and private lakes.
Why was my frugal husband driving to Pinehaven on a random Tuesday night?
I memorized the highway exit number on the receipt, locked the car, and slipped back into the house just as Gregory called out that dinner was ready.
I sat at the kitchen table, forcing myself to eat macaroni and cheese while listening to Gregory talk about his boring day analyzing profit and loss statements. He looked so incredibly normal. His wedding band gleamed under the pendant lights.
“Are you alright, Sarah?” he asked, looking at me with feigned concern. “You seem distracted.”
“Just tired,” I lied, offering a tight smile. “It was a tough shift. I think I’m going to go to bed early.”
The next morning, I called in sick to the hospital for the first time in three years.
I waited until Gregory left for work and Toby was safely dropped off at kindergarten. Then, I got into my car and drove north.
The drive to Pinehaven took nearly an hour. The dense pine trees formed a canopy over the winding, isolated roads. I got off at the exit printed on the toll receipt.
I didn't know exactly what I was looking for, but Pinehaven was a small community. I pulled into the only local real estate office in the village, posing as a prospective buyer.
I browsed the property listings on the wall, casually striking up a conversation with the older woman at the front desk.
“It’s beautiful up here,” I said politely. “My husband and I are looking for a vacation home. Actually, a colleague of his just bought a place up here recently. Gregory Vance? I’m trying to remember which neighborhood he chose.”
The woman’s face lit up with recognition. “Oh, Mr. Vance! Yes, of course. He bought the beautiful A-frame cabin on Ridge Road just last month. Such a stunning property. Overlooking the lake.”
My heart stopped.
Bought.
Gregory had bought a house? We had a joint bank account. I monitored our finances closely. There was no missing money. How could he possibly afford a house in Pinehaven?
“It is a gorgeous property,” I managed to choke out. “I bet the closing process was stressful.”
“Oh, you know how it is,” the woman chuckled. “But he paid entirely in cash, which always speeds things up.”
Cash.
I thanked the woman, my legs feeling like jelly as I walked back to my car.
Gregory had hundreds of thousands of dollars in hidden cash.
I drove up Ridge Road until I found the address. It was a breathtaking, modern wood-and-glass cabin set back in the trees.
Gregory’s Audi wasn't there. But parked in the driveway was a bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle.
Chloe’s car.
I parked down the street, hidden behind a bend in the road, and walked silently through the trees toward the cabin. I crept up to the massive glass windows on the side of the house and peered inside.
The cabin was fully furnished. It looked like a spread from a home decor magazine.
And sitting on the plush white sofa, drinking coffee and watching television, was Chloe.
She was wearing one of Gregory’s oversized dress shirts. And resting against her collarbone, catching the morning sunlight, was my real sapphire necklace.
I felt a sickening surge of betrayal, but as I looked closer, my eyes caught something else sitting on the rustic coffee table in front of her.
It was a stack of legal documents. The font was large enough for me to read the bold header through the glass.
LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT.
Why was Chloe looking at a will?
Suddenly, a loud bark echoed from inside the cabin. A small golden retriever puppy ran into the living room, jumping onto the couch next to Chloe.
She laughed, picking up the puppy and kissing its nose.
Then, she reached into her bag on the floor and pulled out a small, metallic object.
She tossed it onto the coffee table next to the legal documents.
It was a set of keys. But not house keys.
They were heavy, industrial, and attached to a bright red lanyard bearing the logo of the pediatric hospital where I worked.
May you like
They were the master override keys to the hospital’s restricted pharmacy wing.
Keys that had gone missing from my locker two weeks ago.
