Perhaps my marriage was only the newest piece. Perhaps Ethan hadn’t become my friend by accident. And perhaps the distance I’d prepared to put between myself and Lauren was nothing next to the distance someone had already placed between me and the truth.

I stood and reached for my coat. Claire closed the ledger. “Where are you going?”

I looked at the unknown number again. Another photograph appeared — the inside of my father’s old house. A section of the basement wall had been opened.

Behind it was a narrow metal door I had never seen. Ethan stood in front of it, holding the key from the missing lockbox.

But he wasn’t alone. Someone stood behind him, their face outside the frame. Only one hand was visible. On it was a wedding ring identical to the one Lauren had left on my bed less than two hours earlier.

I enlarged the image. The ring had the same tiny scratch near the edge.