PART 2: A Stranger Let Me Sleep on His Shoulder—Then My Ex-Husband Found Me Before the Plane Even Landed -035

Adrian remained where he was.

I pointed to the photograph.

“You knew Ethan.”

“No.”

“You were in the same place.”

“Yes.”

“With your sister.”

“Yes.”

“With Sam Baines.”

“Yes.”

“And my husband.”

“Yes.”

“But you expect me to believe none of you knew one another?”

Adrian looked down at the photograph.

“This was taken at a charity event.”

“What charity event?”

“A donor reception at St. Catherine’s Medical Center.”

His voice changed when he said the hospital’s name.

“Caroline was being treated there.”

“And Sam?”

“Northbridge sponsored part of the event.”

My mouth went dry.

“So you knew Northbridge.”

“I knew the company existed.”

“Did you do business with them?”

“Prescott Health did.”

“Did you approve it?”

“No. Procurement did.”

“Who ran procurement?”

His eyes lifted to mine.

“That depends on the year.”

“That sounds convenient.”

“It sounds corporate.”

I hated that he was probably right.

Hestudied the photograph again.

“My sister hated those events. She went because the hospital convinced her that having a Prescott family member there would help fundraising.”

I looked at Caroline’s face.

She appeared tired but happy.

Alive.

“So that’s why you were there.”

“Yes.”

“And Ethan?”

“I don’t remember him.”

“He remembers you.”

“That’s possible.”

“How?”

“If he was working with Northbridge or one of its accounting firms, he could have attended as a guest.”

“He says his company was doing compliance work.”

Adrian’s eyes sharpened.

“You spoke to him?”

“Yes.”

“What did he tell you?”

I almost answered.

Then stopped.

Only hours earlier, I might have told Adrian everything.

He had been kind.

Patient.

He had helped me.

But kindness was not the same as trust.

Not yet.

“Enough to know Northbridge matters.”

Something like approval flickered in his eyes.

Not because I was withholding information.

Because I hadchosen to.

“All right,” he said.

“You’re not going to ask?”

“I want to.”

“But?”

“But you’ve spent months having information taken out of your hands. I’m not going to do the same thing.”

That landed harder than I expected.

I looked away.

“Then answer the seat question.”

Adrian rubbed one hand over his face.

“My assistant booked the ticket.”

“Name?”

“Claire.”

“Did she choose fourteen B?”

“I don’t know.”

“Was someone else supposed to sit there before you?”

“No.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Because I changed flights.”

I stared at him.

“When?”

“This afternoon.”

A different kind of tension entered the hallway.

“Why?”

“My original flight was delayed. I had a meeting in Houston tonight.”

“So you moved onto mine?”

“Yes.”

“How close to departure?”

“Less than two hours.”

I tried to remember boarding.

The exhausted man beside me.

The navy jacket.

The ridiculous napkin animals.

“If youchanged flights at the last minute, then whoever wrote that note may have known.”

“Yes.”

“And whoever knew would need access to your travel.”

“Possibly.”

“Or mine.”

“Yes.”

I folded my arms.

“Who was supposed to be in fourteen B before you switched?”

Adrian stared at me.

Then glanced at the photograph.

“I don’t know.”

There it was again.

I almost smiled from sheer frustration.

“At least everyone is consistent tonight.”

“I can find out.”

“How?”

“Passenger manifests change. Airlines retain booking history.”

“Can you access that?”

“Not personally.”

“Good.”

He gave me a tired look.

“I do understand laws, Elena.”

“I’ve known you four hours.”

“Long enough to know I’m annoyingly careful.”

That almost made me laugh.

Almost.

He held the photograph out.

When I reached for it, he didn’t release it immediately.

“Whoever sent this wanted you to distrust me.”

I met his eyes.

“Maybe they wanted meto ask questions.”

“Those aren’t mutually exclusive.”

“No.”

He let go.

The photo returned to my hand.

Behind me, Lily murmured in her sleep.

Both of us turned toward the sound.

That tiny movement broke the tension.

Adrian lowered his voice.

“You should rest.”

“You keep saying that.”

“You keep not doing it.”

“I’ve had a strange day.”

“That may be the understatement of the year.”

For a moment, we simply stood there.

Then I said, “I want to know who booked that seat.”

“So do I.”

“But I want the answer tomorrow. Not in some private report three weeks from now.”

“You’ll have whatever we can legally get.”