“You okay?” I asked.

“Fine.”

“Doctor okay?”

“Fine.”

“Baby okay?”

“Yes.”

And I started to see what Corinne had done.

She hadn’t left impulsively.

Documented.

Waited.

Protected herself.

Protected Owen.

She spent months building an exit while I spent months believing her silence meant I had gotten away with everything.

My phone buzzed.

An email.

The subject line made my stomach turn.

NOTICE OF EMERGENCY BOARD SESSION — KEATON DEVELOPMENT GROUP

There were six attachments.

A financial summary.

Three highlighted expense categories.

Hospitality.

Consulting.

Development accommodation.

Below them were transactions I recognized.

Charleston.

Nashville.

Savannah.

Tessa.

Every lie I told at home somehow found its way onto the balance sheet at work.

And tomorrow morning, I planned to have to explain them.

Chapter 3: The cost of a private life

The board meeting began at eight.

I arrived at seven twenty.

Usually, when I walked through the lobby of Keaton Development Group, people greeted me before I greeted them.