“Tell me what I’m supposed to think.”
He glanced toward the hallway.
“Not here.”
“You don’t get to say something like that in my house and then tell me not here.”
“I’m not talking about my relationship with Mari.”
“Then what are you talking about?”
Graham stood.
“Come with me.”
I didn’t move.
He pointed toward the kitchen.
“Please.”
“Why?”
“Because if I explain it here, you’re going to think I’m insane.”
“I passed that point about 30 seconds ago.”
He headed toward the back door.
I followed.
Outside, the backyard was almost dark.
Only the porch light and a small garden lamp near Henry’s shed were on.
Graham walked toward the far end.
“What exactly did you do?” I demanded.
He kept going.
“Graham.”
“You’ll see.”
“I am not enjoying those words.”
“I wasn’t expecting you to.”
Then I noticed someone standing beside the shed.
A man.
For a second, I couldn’t see his face.
Then he stepped beneath the garden light.
I screamed.
“HENRY?”
My husband lifted both hands.
“Hi.”
I stared at him.
“You are supposed to be four hours away!”
“I was this morning. I drove back early.”
“And you didn’t think to tell me?”
Henry glanced toward a covered shape beside the shed. “That would’ve ruined this.”
Graham muttered, “I’m going inside.”
“No, you’re not.”
He stopped.
