“When?”
“Today.”
“Diane.”
She rubbed her face.
“Tell me.”
For the first time since I’d known her, she didn’t look stubborn.
She looked afraid.
Finally, she whispered, “Your husband came to my house last night.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“So?”
Diane looked toward the principal.
“This isn’t the place.”
“You came to my son’s school, tried to remove him without my permission, and used a false name. You made this the place.”
“Wendy, please.”
“No. What did Jason tell you?”
She didn’t answer.
I pulled out my phone.
“I’ll ask him.”
Diane stepped toward me.
“Don’t.”
That single word frightened me more than the false name.
I called Jason.
The phone rang several times before going to voicemail.
I tried again.
Nothing.
“Where is he?” I asked.
“I don’t know.”
“You said he was at your house last night.”
“He was.”
“What time?”
“Around 9:00 p.m.”
Jason had told me he’d been working late.
