No one will look twice.”

The recording ended, and the room was silent, and Nathan was staring at the little machine as though it had grown teeth.

Because he understood, at last, what I had understood the moment I heard my wife’s rival speak in that flat and businesslike voice.

He had not simply been a cruel husband that afternoon.

He had been a tool.

Someone had picked him up, the way you pick up a knife, and used him, and set him back down.