Chapter 3: What Was in the Folder
The flight attendant moved through the cabin doing final checks.
Julian kept his voice low, his jaw tight.
"Elena.
Put that away.
People are looking."
"Let them look," she said.
She reached into the folder again.
This time she pulled out a single printed page and set it on top of the photograph.
Julian's eyes dropped to it before he could stop himself.
It was a bank transfer record.
One hundred and forty thousand dollars.
Moved from their joint investment account into a private account Elena had never seen before.
The transfer date was eleven months ago.
"That's our money," Elena said.
"Or it was."
Julian's hand came off the armrest.
"That was a business decision.
I was going to tell you—"
"You were going to tell me." She nodded slowly.
"When?"
He had no answer.
Chloe was pressed against the window now, arms folded, staring at the tarmac outside.
Her phone was face-down on her lap.
"Chloe," Elena said, turning to her.
"Did he tell you the marriage was over?"
Chloe didn't move.
"It's a simple question.
I'm not angry at you.
I just want to know what he told you."
Chloe's voice came out barely above a whisper.
"He said you'd been separated for two years.
That you were only staying together for your daughter."
Elena looked at Julian.
Julian looked at the seat back in front of him.
"We had dinner together last Tuesday," Elena said.
"As a family.
Maya made a card for him because he told her he'd been stressed at work.
She drew a little briefcase on it.
She's ten." She paused.
"We have not been separated."
Chloe turned to look at Julian for the first time since Elena had sat down.
Something had shifted in her face.
The color that had drained from it earlier was coming back — but it wasn't relief.
"You told me she knew," Chloe said.
"You told me she'd already accepted it."
Julian finally turned to face her.
"Chloe, this isn't the place—"
"You told me she had a boyfriend." Her voice rose just enough that the man across the aisle glanced over.
"You told me she was happy."
"Keep your voice down," Julian said.
"Don't," Elena said quietly.
"Let her speak."
Chloe looked at Elena.
Her eyes were filling.
"I didn't know.
I want you to know that.
He told me—" She stopped.
Pressed her fingers to her mouth.
"I'm so sorry."
Elena held her gaze for a moment.
"I believe you."
Julian let out a short breath, as if the worst had passed.
As if two women finding common ground somehow helped him.
"So," he said, lowering his voice to something almost reasonable.
"What do you want, Elena?
You want to talk?
Fine.
We'll talk.
When we land, we'll get a room, sit down, and—"
"I already have a room," Elena said.
"And a return flight booked for Sunday.
I'm not here to talk, Julian.
I'm here because my lawyer needed forty-eight hours and I needed to see your face when you realized how much I already know."
Julian went very still.
"What lawyer?" he said.
"What does that mean?"
Elena closed the folder.
Pressed the clasp shut.
Set it on her lap with both hands resting on top.
"It means," she said, "that by the time this plane lands, a petition will have been filed."
The engines rose beneath them.
The plane began to move.
Julian stared at the folder in her lap as if it might open on its own and show him something worse than what he'd already seen.
He was right to stare.
May you like
There was something worse inside it.
He just didn't know what it was yet.
