Chapter 3: The Woman in Row Seven
Eric didn't move.
He stood between my row and hers, his hand still gripping the headrest, his body turned halfway toward the back of the plane.
The woman three rows back hadn't looked away.
She was maybe thirty-five, dark hair pulled back, a carry-on bag still in her lap like she'd forgotten to put it in the overhead bin.
Her eyes were fixed on Eric with an expression I recognized immediately.
It was the same expression I'd been wearing for three days.
The flight attendant touched Eric's arm.
"Sir.
Your seat."
He turned back to me.
His voice dropped to almost nothing.
"This isn't what you think."
"Sit down, Eric."
"Diane—"
"The babies are watching you."
He looked at the three of them.
Mia had woken up and was staring at her father with wide, uncertain eyes.
He flinched.
Then he straightened, turned, and walked back toward the front of the plane without another word.
The curtain fell closed behind him.
I exhaled slowly.
Mia reached up and patted my cheek with one small hand, the way she did when she sensed something was wrong.
I caught her fingers and held them.
"It's okay, bug," I said.
"Mama's okay."
I wasn't sure that was true.
But I kept my voice steady.
Fifteen minutes passed.
The babies settled.
I gave them crackers and juice from the bag I'd packed — the bag Eric hadn't helped carry — and I sat very still and thought about the hotel booking I'd found three nights ago.
I'd been looking for the resort confirmation.
Eric had asked me to forward it to his work email.
I'd opened the booking app and found a second reservation I hadn't made.
Same dates.
Same destination.
One room.
Two guests.
Eric Marsh.
Lauren Voss.
I hadn't said anything.
I'd taken a screenshot, closed the app, and sat on the edge of the bed for a long time while the babies slept.
Then I'd made one phone call.
Not to Eric.
Not to a lawyer.
To the bank.
I'd set up a secondary authorization requirement on the travel card — the one linked to my savings — so that any charge over fifty dollars would require my approval via text.
Quietly.
Cleanly.
No confrontation.
I hadn't cancelled the card.
I'd just made it so that when Eric tried to use it at the resort, he'd find it wouldn't work without me.
I'd thought that would be enough.
I hadn't expected Lauren Voss to be on the same plane.
A shadow fell across the aisle.
I looked up.
She was standing there.
Carry-on still in hand.
Her face had some color back in it now, but her jaw was tight.
"I'm sorry to bother you," she said.
"Are you Diane?"
I looked at her for a moment.
"Yes."
She sat down in the empty aisle seat across from me without being invited.
Her hands were shaking slightly.
May you like
"My name is Lauren," she said.
"And I think we need to talk."
