Once I was behind the wheel, I pulled out my phone and called Mark.
The call went directly to voicemail.
I called again.
Voicemail.
On the third attempt, the same polite recorded voice invited me to leave a message, but I could not find a single sentence that felt large enough.
“Where is Daddy?” Leo asked from the back seat.
“I don’t know, sweetheart.”
“Is Daddy in trouble?”
I looked at him through the rearview mirror.
“Why would Daddy be in trouble?”
He hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek exactly the way Mark did.
“I wasn’t supposed to tell about the lady.”
“I know, baby.”
“Daddy said it’s a surprise. He said if I told, the surprise would be broken.”
The drive home lasted only seven minutes, but it felt like an hour.
All I could picture was the locked guest room.
When we arrived, I left the groceries in the car and carried Leo inside on my hip.
