“I thought it would be 17 minutes.”
“Before lunch,” I said. “That’s when she says you left.”
Her face changed just slightly.
That was enough.
She knew I had the timeline now.
The call from Tessa was still in my phone history.
The hidden phone had a notification stamped 1:17 p.m.
The newest message was worse because it didn’t describe an accident, a delay, or anything she had been forced to deal with.
It gave an instruction.
Leave the kids with Tessa and come now.
I turned the second phone so she could see the screen.
“You want to tell me who R is?”
“Not in front of the kids.”
That was the first thing she said that I agreed with.
“Fine.”
