The next evening I decided to run a small test.
I told her I'd be working late.
She said, "Okay. Don't stress yourself too much."
Her tone was smooth, affectionate — too smooth.
I waited an hour after leaving the apartment, then went back quietly, parking my car a street away.
I walked up the stairwell slowly, my heart thudding like a drum.
The lights in the apartment were dim.
No voices.
I unlocked the door as silently as I could and stepped in.
The living room was empty.
Her phone was on the table, charging.
I checked the call logs — nothing suspicious.
I almost felt disappointed.
Almost.
Then I noticed her bag was missing.
A tiny detail, but it set off alarms in my head.
I left before she could come back and find me there.
As I closed the door behind me, I thought,
You're clever… but I'm getting closer.