Chapter 3
We did not go to the hotel alone.
Alicia made that very clear.
“This is not a movie,” she said. “No hallway confrontations without documentation and security.”
Claire looked like she wanted to run there barefoot.
I understood.
Part of me wanted the same.
Not because of Mark.
Because of Lauren.
Lauren, who had held my hair while I cried after my last breakup.
Lauren, who knew my phone password because I trusted her to order food while I drove.
Lauren, who slept beside me on cabin trips and took stupid photos of me drooling on couches.
Lauren, who had stolen my face.
Daniel contacted building security and the police.
Not because the company owned my life.
Because the attack had happened inside a business meeting, with client data on the table and reputational damage spreading in real time.
By the time we left the office, someone had already posted about it online.
Woman attacks alleged mistress during corporate meeting.
No names yet.
But Dallas is not as big as people think.
Alicia drove me.
Claire drove with a police officer.
I sat in the passenger seat staring at Lauren’s location dot.
It had not moved.
Alicia asked, “How long have you known Lauren?”
“Since college.”
“How close?”
“Family-close.”
“Does she have access to your photos?”
“Yes.”
“Passwords?”
I closed my eyes.
“Some.”
“Financial accounts?”
“No.”
“Email?”
“She knew my old password. I changed it last year.”
“Why?”
“She borrowed money and lied about paying rent.”
Alicia glanced at me.
“Borrowed how much?”
“Two thousand.”
“Did she repay it?”
“No.”
The silence that followed was not judgment.
It was pattern.
I hated it.
Because once a lie breaks open, you start seeing every old red flag you painted pink.
Lauren always had emergencies.
Lauren always needed rescuing.
Lauren always joked that I had “the trustworthy face.”
At the time, I thought it was a compliment.
Now it sounded like strategy.
At the hotel, officers spoke with management.
Claire stood beside me in the lobby.
Her hands shook.
“I don’t know if I want him to be in that room,” she whispered.
I did not know how to answer.
Because if Mark was there, her marriage was worse than she feared.
If he was not, Lauren’s scheme was larger than either of us understood.
The officer returned.
“Room 814 is registered to Mark Bennett.”
Claire closed her eyes.
Another officer knocked upstairs while hotel security waited nearby.
We watched from the lobby camera feed.
The door opened.
Lauren stood there.
Wearing a silk robe I recognized.
Mine.
The blue one I lost after our cabin trip.
My breath stopped.
Behind her, Mark Bennett stood shirtless.
Claire made a sound I will never forget.
Small.
Animal.
Broken.
I reached for her arm.
She did not pull away.
Lauren looked at the officers.
Then at the camera in the hallway.
May you like
Then she smiled.
Like she could still talk her way out.
