Beatrice drove home that evening with a calmer mind than she had in weeks. Meeting Johnson had given her a strange sense of closure. He had insisted Zaria was fine and living in Hilltop, the same story the neighbors had told her. And she had seen someone at that house herself. Maybe I was wrong all along, she thought as she navigated through evening traffic. Maybe Zaria has always been there and Sally is just helping another girl altogether.
But then a nagging thought crept in. Who is the girl Sally always visits? Why is he so secretive?
For the first time, her suspicions shifted. Could Sally have another woman? A secret daughter? The idea unsettled her deeply. She remembered seeing a name on Sally's phone once—Angela. A nurse. Could she be connected to this?
By the time she reached home, her head buzzed with new questions.
---
That evening, Sally arrived home earlier than usual, carrying a small box wrapped in elegant paper. He seemed relaxed, even cheerful, which caught Beatrice off guard. Lately, things between them had been strained—distant conversations, cold dinners, and silence where laughter used to be.
They ate quietly, Beatrice lost in thought while Sally chatted casually about work. After clearing the dishes, she went to the bedroom to shower. She stood at the dressing mirror, brushing her hair, when Sally stepped in holding the box.
"Honey," he said softly, "I have something for you."
Beatrice turned, startled. "For me?"
He smiled and walked closer, holding out the box. "A little gift."
Her heart warmed instantly. It had been so long since he had given her anything without reason, and the thought that he had chosen something for her brought back a piece of the closeness they once shared.
She opened the box, and her eyes widened. Inside lay a beautiful necklace, delicate and expensive-looking, its diamonds catching the bedroom light.
"Oh my…" she whispered, lifting it gently. "Sally, it's beautiful. I love it."
He chuckled. "I'm glad you do."
She smiled shyly. "Let me take a bath first. Then you can put it on me."
---
When Beatrice returned, smelling of lavender soap and wrapped in her night robe, Sally sat on the edge of the bed, scrolling through his phone. She sat beside him, still holding the necklace, and said, "Thank you. This means a lot."
He looked at her warmly. "Honey, I want to tell you something."
Her eyebrows rose. "What is it?"
Sally took a deep breath, choosing his words carefully. He had prepared for this moment, crafting every detail to sound convincing. "You've probably noticed me going out a lot, visiting someone… I want you to know why."
Beatrice's heart skipped. She braced herself, uncertain whether she was ready to hear what came next. "I'm listening."
Sally looked her in the eyes, his expression a perfect mask of sincerity. "A friend of mine… he's a soldier. Right now, he's serving in Somalia. Before he left, he trusted me with something very personal. His daughter."
Beatrice blinked. "His daughter?"
"Yes," Sally said, his voice softening. "The girl's mother abandoned her and got remarried. She left her without care, and my friend asked me to play a father figure in his absence."
Beatrice frowned slightly. "How can a mother do that? Leaving her own child like that? She doesn't even deserve to be called a mother."
Sally nodded solemnly, hiding the faint smirk trying to form on his lips. "Exactly. That's why I visit her at school whenever I can. She's been through a lot. She has some health issues too, so she's often under the care of a nurse named Angela. During the holidays, she stays with Angela since she needs special attention."
Beatrice's expression softened. "That's… that's heartbreaking. Poor girl. She must have suffered a lot."
"So much," Sally said, shaking his head as if weighed down by the girl's burdens. "But I promised my friend I'd look after her until he returns. Sometimes I even take Dexta with me so he can keep her company. That's why you see him so active these days—he's happy to help."
For the first time in weeks, Beatrice felt a genuine wave of relief wash over her. The tension that had been coiled tightly in her chest began to ease. So that's it. That explains everything.
"I'm glad you told me," she said, smiling faintly. "All these thoughts I had…" She laughed nervously. "I even thought you might have another woman, or a secret daughter."
Sally reached out and took her hand, looking into her eyes. "No, honey. Nothing like that. I'm yours. Always."
Beatrice's shoulders relaxed, and she leaned closer. "Thank you for being honest. It means a lot."
Inside, Sally exhaled quietly in victory. Jackpot, he thought. His carefully crafted lie had worked perfectly, clearing her doubts while protecting the truth about Zaria.
---
They spent the rest of the evening laughing more than they had in months, the heavy cloud of suspicion seemingly lifted. Beatrice admired her necklace again as Sally clasped it around her neck.
"It's beautiful," she whispered, looking at their reflection in the mirror.
"And so are you," Sally replied smoothly, kissing her forehead.
---
Later that night, after Beatrice fell asleep wearing her new necklace and a faint smile, Sally stood by the window, looking out into the darkness. His phone buzzed with a message from one of his shadow men:
> All clear. Hilltop cover intact.
He typed back: Keep it that way until I say otherwise.
Pocketing the phone, Sally looked back at Beatrice, who slept peacefully. His expression hardened. I'll do anything to keep Zaria safe—even if it means lying to the woman I married.
He turned off the bedside lamp and slipped under the covers, already planning his next move.
---
Beatrice, half-asleep, murmured softly, "Thank you, Sally…"
Sally closed his eyes, his mind calm but cold. The illusion he had created was working. Beatrice's investigation was over, her doubts silenced.
But deep inside, Beatrice's subconscious still held a tiny seed of unease. For now, it lay dormant under the warmth of her husband's gift and story. But seeds had a way of growing when the truth began to leak through cracks.