Chapter 113
Sarah
pov.
I purposely did not bring up the photos that I saw in Isabelle's belongings yet because I need to have just more than pictures to prove her wrong.
At first, I convinced myself it was paranoia. After everything Richard and I had been through, wasn't it natural to be a little on edge?
But the coincidences kept piling up, each one more unsettling than the last.
I sat on the edge of our bed that morning, staring at my reflection in the mirror. My hair looked dull, my skin paler than usual. I felt off-nauseous even-but I told myself it was the stress. "Sarah, you can't keep ignoring this," I muttered to myself, running a hand over my face. I hadn't been sleeping well, and the tension in the house was eating away at me.
When Richard appeared in the doorway, I forced a smile. "Morning," I said, but my voice sounded weak even to me.
"Morning," he replied, leaning against the frame. "You look tired."
"Gee, thanks," I said dryly.
He chuckled softly and walked over to kiss my forehead. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm just... worried about you. You haven't been yourself lately."
I wanted to tell him everything-about Isabelle, about my suspicions-but I hesitated.
Every time I tried, Isabelle managed to twist things in her favor. I wasn't sure Richard would believe me anymore.
"I'm fine," I said instead, brushing him off. "Just a lot on my mind."
Later that day, while folding laundry, memories began creeping back.
At first, it seemed like a strange coincidence-Richard and I were in Hawaii and we met her there, on the beach while trying to have a picnic.
Meanwhile Richard had met her earlier. I remember she was staring right at us, pretending not to notice us until Richard waved at her.
smiling shyly, acting hesitant, like she didn't want to interrupt. I didn't think much of it then, though a small voice in the back of my head told me something
bag had been stolen and she had nowhere to stay, I couldn't ignore the prickling doubt in my mind. Richard, ever the knight
A week turned into
Back to present.
day, Isabelle made my morning coffee without asking how I took
she said brightly, handing me the
a cautious sip. It was exactly how I liked it-two sugars, a splash of cream, the tiniest pinch of cinnamon. I hadn't told her that. "Did Richard tell you how I like my
laughed lightly. "Oh,
with me, but I let it
the week, I knew I needed to talk to someone. Someone who would listen
to mind immediately. As Richard's best friend and our family lawyer, he had a way of seeing things clearly.
just need to talk," I
replied. "Want to meet at
was sitting behind his desk, his tie loosened like he'd been dealing with
mind, Sarah?" he asked,
unsure of where to begin. "It's about
"Isabelle? The woman staying with you
showing up,
his brow furrowed. "What
organize my thoughts. "She's playing some kind of game. I don't know what her end goal
a bitter laugh. "He thinks I'm
considering my words. "Do
her
updated. And, Sarah... be careful. If you're right about her, she's
the days passed, my suspicions grew stronger. Isabelle wasn't just trying to
around, she became this picture of helpfulness, cooking dinner, tidying up, offering to
ate it up, oblivious to the way she glanced at me
exhaustion. Even the smell of coffee, which I usually loved, made me feel
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