She couldn’t have been older than thirty. Her eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that immediately made me uneasy.
“Debbie?” she whispered.
“Yes?” I replied.
She glanced briefly at Walter, then looked back at me.
“He’s not who you think he is.”
My heart began racing.
Before I could say anything, she quietly slipped a folded note into my hand.
The note read:
“Go to this address tomorrow at 5 p.m., please.”
Below the message was an address.
Without saying anything more, she walked away. Just before disappearing through the crowd, she turned back once and gave me a small nod.
I stood there frozen.
Across the room, Walter was laughing with my son. He looked happy. Innocent.
Was I about to lose everything I had just found?
I forced myself to keep smiling through the rest of the evening. I cut the cake, posed for photos, and thanked guests for coming. But inside, fear was building.
That night, as I lay beside Walter in bed, sleep refused to come.
What if he wasn’t who I thought he was?
What if this entire thing had been a lie?
The next morning, I told Walter I was going to the library.
He leaned over and kissed my forehead.
