I’ve been coming over on Thursday afternoons because your husband hired us to finalize some paperwork — for your anniversary.”
I stood there.
Whatever I had braced myself to hear, it was not that.
“My… what?”
The word anniversary did something strange to the machinery of my panic.
It didn’t shut it off — I was still braced, still holding the whole catastrophe up in my arms, not yet willing to set it down in case this was somehow another layer of the lie.