I did not go looking for sandwiches or hot soup or anything at all to bring back to the man who had ordered it.

I stepped down onto the freezing platform, and I turned around, and I watched the massive silver train pull away from the station and disappear into the snowy distance, carrying my husband and his mistress deeper into a fifty-hour journey they did not yet understand had become a trap.

Julian and Chloe, I imagine, assumed I was hurrying around the Milwaukee station, flustered and cold and dutiful, searching for their dinner.

They had no idea that I was walking, calmly, out of the station and toward a taxi that would take me to the airport.