Then the expression changed.
“Where did this come from?” he asked.
“Steven’s secondary phone,” I said. “In his office.”
He didn’t speak for a moment. He looked at the photos again, and then at the video thumbnail, and then he set the phone down and looked at his wife.
Lucy was looking at the table.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he said.
His voice was not accusatory. It was broken.
She put her hands over her face.
I spoke for her.
I told him everything she had told me on the porch. The Thanksgiving visit. The standing too close. The comments that could be explained away. The footsteps at night. The light under the door. The doorknob turning.The reason she had started sleeping in our room.
Thomas sat very still through all of it.
When I finished, he was quiet for a long moment.
Then he dropped to his knees on the kitchen floor in front of Lucy’s chair.
