Chapter 2 - THE POOL HOUSE PAPER
The birthday party ended early.
Rachel said Ariel was tired.
Everyone understood that was not the real reason.
Clara left first.
Glen followed twenty minutes later after telling Rachel he needed to “calm her down.”
Rachel laughed.
“You mean explain why my daughter got slapped?”
He rubbed his face.
“Rachel, please.”
“No.”
Then she shut the front door in his face.
Ariel sat on the sofa with a cold cloth against her cheek.
No visible injury.
Just fright.
Rachel crouched beside her.
“Baby, where did you see Daddy draw that shape?”
Ariel pointed toward the backyard.
“Little house.”
The pool house.
Rachel’s stomach tightened.
“Today?”
Ariel nodded.
“I went for juice.”
Rachel had not known Ariel went inside.
“What did you see?”
“Daddy and Clara.”
“Doing what?”
Ariel frowned, searching for words.
“Daddy had papers.”
“Okay.”
“He made blue thing.”
“With a pen?”
Ariel nodded.
“Then Clara made it here.”
She touched her own stomach.
Rachel’s pulse jumped.
Temporary transfer ink.
A tracing mark.
Why?
She waited until Ariel’s aunt arrived.
Then walked alone to the pool house.
The room smelled faintly of sunscreen and printer toner.
Glen’s folding work table stood near the wall.
He sometimes used the pool house when the main house got noisy.
Rachel searched the trash first.
Receipts.
Tape backing.
A disposable transfer sheet.
Then beneath a stack of blank paper, she found a torn corner of a blueprint.
Only one part remained.
A floor plan.
A bedroom.
A garage.
A backyard.
Near the bottom, the same symbol.
Square.
Diagonal slash.
Beside it:
C.B.
Rachel stared.
Clara Bennett.
Then another notation:
G.C.
Glen Carter.
Two initials.
One house plan.
She heard the sliding door open behind her.
Glen stood there.
His face went white when he saw the paper.
Rachel held it up.
“Who is C.B.?”
He answered too slowly.
“You know who.”
“Yes.”
She stepped closer.
“Why are you and my stepmother on the same house plan?”
Glen looked toward the door.
Then said:
“It’s not what you think.”
May you like
Rachel almost smiled.
Because every betrayal eventually reaches that sentence.
