What stopped me cold was what she was wearing — a navy silk pajama set, the twin of the designer sleepwear my husband wore at home, a set I had bought for him myself.

Chapter 3 — The Matching Pajamas

“What are you doing here?” I asked her.

Kayla dropped her gaze to the floor.

“Roland came over to my apartment to drop off some urgent documents, and he suddenly felt unwell.”

“At two o’clock in the morning?” I said.

Priscilla stepped between us, shielding the girl with her body.

“This is absolutely not the time or the place for your ridiculous jealousy.”