Page 35 of Rest In Peace

"Neighbors can mean a lot of things. Were you friends, acquaintances…?"

"Acquaintances," he clipped out the word. We'd nod and say hello, and that's about it."

"Must be tough," I said, watching his reaction closely, "with everything going on."

"Life's full of surprises," Adam replied, but his voice betrayed nothing.

"Indeed, it is."

"Their daughter," I said, shifting in the chair to face him more directly. "I heard she's ill."

Adam's gaze dropped to the floor, his posture sagging slightly. "Yeah, leukemia. It's been… rough on them." The words seemed to weigh heavily on him.

"They must have changed their routines quite a bit," I ventured carefully.

He nodded, the movement barely perceptible. "They didn’t get out much after it started. Hospital visits, treatments…." His voice trailed off, lost in the sea of unspoken hardships.

"Before that," I pressed on, leaning forward with feigned casualness. "They had more time for themselves, no?"

"Sure," Adam replied, a touch of defensiveness slipping into his tone. “But I really don’t know a lot about them.”

"Of course not," I conceded with a quick, placating smile. "Just trying to paint a clearer picture of their relationship."

"Sarah liked to unwind—a glass of wine, a night out with the girls," Adam said, his fingers drumming an irregular beat on the armrest. It got worse over the years, and she came home drunk many times. We saw her drive up in the car, swerving down the street. It was tragic. Steven? He preferred a quiet night in."

"Sounds like they had different ways of dealing with their daughter’s illness," I said, eyeing Adam for any telltale signs of discomfort.

"Opposites attract, right?" He forced a chuckle that didn't quite mask the strain in his voice.

"Sometimes," I agreed, keeping my tone light. "And Steven never joined her on her evenings out, even just to keep her company?"

Adam shook his head. "Not after Victoria got sick. But even before that, he wasn't much of a drinker. They would go out, but she was the one who liked to drink. And when Victoria got sick, he stayed home with her or spent his nights at the hospital."

"Interesting." I tapped my finger on my knee, feigning contemplation. "With Sarah out, it must've given Steven some… opportunities. Not only did she go out at night from time to time, she also worked a lot and was a career woman."

"Opportunities?" His brow furrowed, and he leaned back, arms crossing defensively.

"Sure," I continued as if stating the obvious. "Time alone can lead to new friendships… maybe more intimate ones."

"Are you suggesting—?" Adam began, his voice rising before he caught himself. "No. Steven wasn't like that."

"Wasn't like what, Adam?" I probed, locking eyes with him. "Seeing someone else?"

"Absolutely not," he snapped. There was a flash of anger in his eyes, quickly doused. "I would've known. He was devoted to his daughter. It was really hard for him."

"Would you have known?" I asked softly, almost sympathetically. "It's easy to miss the signs, especially when life's so hectic."

"Look," Adam said, his hands unclasping and reclasping, "Steven had his faults, but he was loyal to Sarah. Especially after…." His voice cracked, and he looked away.

"Especially after his daughter got sick," I finished for him. The room filled with a tense silence, and Adam's jaw tightened as he fought back emotions.

"Right," he whispered, almost to himself.

"Because that's when people show their true colors, isn't it, Adam?" I pressed on, my voice barely above a whisper.

Adam met my gaze again, his eyes wells of unshed tears, but there was something else there—fear, perhaps, or guilt. "You have no idea what they went through," he said, his voice barely audible.

"I'm trying to understand," I assured him. But understanding was only part of the game. The other part was unraveling the truth.

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