Chapter 6: The Performance
I made breakfast.
That was the thing that felt most impossible and so I did it first.
I stood at the stove and made eggs and toast and poured two cups of coffee and set them on the table, and when Veronica came downstairs in her robe I was already seated with the newspaper open in front of me.
She paused at the kitchen doorway.
"You're up early," she said.
"Couldn't sleep," I said.
"Sit down.
Breakfast is ready."
She watched me for a moment.
Then she crossed to the table and sat.
We ate in silence for a while.
Outside the window the garden was gray with early morning light.
Sofia's small bicycle was leaning against the fence where she had left it two days ago.
"I want to apologize," Veronica said.
I looked up from the newspaper.
"Last night," she said.
"I was defensive.
I should have handled it differently." She set her fork down.
"I know finding those letters was a shock.
But Daniel — I did what I thought was best for this family.
For Sofia.
For you."
"I know you did," I said.
She studied my face.
"Are you angry with me?"
"I'm tired," I said.
"I was up late.
I need some time to think."
She reached across the table and put her hand over mine.
Her fingers were cool and steady.
"I love you," she said.
"I love Sofia.
Whatever Alina wrote in those letters, it doesn't change what we've built here."
I turned my hand over and held hers briefly.
"I know," I said.
It was the hardest sentence I had ever spoken.
After breakfast I called Marcus from the car, parked two streets away.
"She apologized," I said.
"Of course she did," Marcus said.
"She's recalibrating.
She knows you found the letters.
She doesn't know how much you've figured out yet.
She's trying to get back in front of it."
"She put her hand on mine and told me she loved me."
A pause.
"Are you all right?"
"No," I said.
"Tell me the colleague is available."
"He's available.
I'm meeting him at noon.
Bring the drive."
"I can't take it from the house without her noticing."
"Can you photograph the label?
The handwriting?"
"Yes."
"Do that.
And Daniel — I found something this morning.
I did some searching on Patrick.
The man in the photographs Veronica showed Alina."
I waited.
"He and Alina worked together for two years.
They were friends.
Nothing more — I spoke to two people who knew them both." Marcus paused.
"But here's what's interesting.
Patrick left the firm eight months after Alina disappeared.
He told a colleague that someone had been sending anonymous messages to his employer suggesting he'd had an affair with a married client."
The line was quiet for a moment.
"Someone tried to destroy him too," I said.
"Someone who wanted to make sure neither he nor Alina could ever credibly tell their side of the story."
I sat in the parked car and looked at the street ahead.
"I need to find Alina," I said.
"I know.
I'm working on it.
But Daniel — one more day.
Let me get the drive analyzed first.
We need to know what she has on you before we make a move she can see."
I agreed and drove back to the house.
Veronica was in the living room when I returned, playing a board game on the floor with Sofia.
She had changed into clothes, done her hair.
She looked up when I came in and smiled.
Sofia looked up too.
"Daddy, play with us."
I sat down on the floor.
I played the game.
I smiled at the right moments.
And across the board, Veronica watched me with those calm, composed eyes, and I understood for the first time that she had been performing too — for fourteen months, possibly longer — and that she was very, very good at it.
The question was whether she was better at it than I was.
That evening, after Sofia was in bed, Veronica poured two glasses of wine and brought them to the sofa.
We sat together and watched television and she leaned her head against my shoulder and I did not move away.
My phone buzzed once in my pocket.
A message from Marcus: *Drive analyzed.
May you like
Call me in the morning.
It's worse than we thought.*
