PART 2: A Stranger Let Me Sleep on His Shoulder—Then My Ex-Husband Found Me Before the Plane Even Landed -035
“Old travel records.”
My stomach dropped.
“Whose?”
Daniel rotated the screen.
I read the names.
Adrian Prescott.
Caroline Prescott.
Samuel Baines.
And Ethan Walker.
I looked up.
“Why would Ethan have travel records in Adrian’s company?”
“That’s the problem.”
“What problem?”
“He shouldn’t.”
I stared at the screen.
“But he does.”
“Yes.”
“How far back?”
“Almost three years.”
The photograph.
The hospital fundraiser.
The beginning of Ethan’s questions about Northbridge.
I whispered, “Someone was tracking them.”
Daniel didn’t answer.
He didn’t need to.
Adrian returned with Lily, who now possessed a box of crayons large enough to stock an elementary school.
“They said I can keep them.”
“I’m very happy for you.”
She climbed into herchair.
Adrian sat.
Daniel quietly turned the laptop toward him.
He read.
His face hardened.
“Where did this come from?”
“Claire’s account.”
“That’s impossible.”
“You said she’s had access for seven years,” I said.
“Not to this.”
“What is it?”
Adrian looked at me.
“Private aviation records.”
“Your flights?”
“Mine. My family’s.”
“And Ethan’s?”
“That’s what I don’t understand.”
Daniel tapped a line on the screen.
“These entries weren’t created through the regular system. They were imported.”
“By Claire?” I asked.
“We don’t know.”
“Can you see when?”
“Yes.”
He pointed.
I leaned closer.
The first import date was nearly three years earlier.
Two days after the photograph had been taken.
Adrian pushed his coffee away.
“We need to go to the office.”
I immediately shook my head.
“You need to go to the office.”
His gaze lifted.
“You’re not coming?”
“No.”
He seemed surprised.
“So am I,” I admitted.But I have a daughter. I have an attorney to call. I have a cousin wondering where I am. And I have spent the last twelve hours being pulled into a mystery involving people I barely know.”
I took a breath.
“I need to stop reacting.”
Adrian watched me carefully.
“What are you going to do?”
“Call Celeste.”
“Good.”
“Then Marisol.”
“Good.”
“And then Ethan.”
His expression changed slightly.
“That may not be—”
I raised an eyebrow.
He stopped.
Then smiled faintly.
“Your decision.”
“Yes.”
Lily held up a crayon.
“Purple.”
I looked at it.
“Yes, baby. Purple.”
She went back to drawing.
I felt something inside me settle.
Not confidence exactly.
Something more useful.
Direction.
I had boarded the plane believing my life was falling apart.
Maybe it was.
But falling apart and ending were not the same thing.
Sometimes things broke because they had been built around truthsno one had been willing to face.
I looked at Adrian.
“Find Claire.”
“I intend to.”
“And when you do?”
“I ask her why.”
“No threats.”
His eyebrows rose.
“I wasn’t planning any.”
“No pressure either.”
“Elena.”
“I mean it.”
He studied me.
Then nodded.
“No pressure.”
“Just the truth.”
“Yes.”
I stood.
“So will I.”
Marisol arrived an hour later.
She entered the hotel room carrying two grocery bags, a backpack for Lily, and the expression of a woman prepared to reorganize someone’s entire life before lunch.
“You look terrible,” she told me.
“Good morning to you too.”
“You need moisturizer.”
“I need a new existence.”
“That too.”
Then she hugged me.
I had expected questions.
Instead, she held me so tightly that I stopped breathing for a second.
When she stepped back, her eyes were wet.
“You scared me.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Just warn me next timebefore the internet tells me you’re dating a billionaire.”
I groaned.
“You saw it.”
“My mother sent it to me.”
“Aunt Rosa?”
“At five thirty this morning.”
I covered my face.
Marisol laughed.
Then she became serious.
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Lily?”
“Yes.”
“Did Ethan come here?”
“No.”
“Good.”
She looked around.
“Where is Billionaire Airplane Guy?”
