I walked into the family room and stared down at the sketch Ben had drawn. It wasn’t a bad plan. Glass shards in his feet, paint cans to his head, kerosene in the toilet. I was especially fond of the blowtorch. Although the feathers seemed like an unnecessary touch. That was the only thing I could see wrong with the plan. Unnecessary feathers.

I sighed. Murder involved running away. Video footage involved running away. Was there another option that didn’t involve running?

I could divorce him like a normal person. Ben made it seem simple. But knowing too many of my husband’s secrets wasn’t the only issue. He also knew too many of mine.

I turned around and stared at the basement door. All of our secrets were filed away. Clearly labeled and dated. All those files. I swallowed hard. The cops would look at that. Everyone would know our secrets.

But they didn’t have to know. I could destroy everything I could get my hands on. And I could destroy his computer. All the evidence of my insanity would be gone. All my wrongdoings wiped away.

I walked over to my laptop and switched it on. A few minutes later I had filled an Amazon cart with a paper shredder, a scanner, and a few other random items that happened to be from the Home Alone master plan. It was good to have a backup plan, just in case.

I’d get the evidence on my husband. And then I’d erase all the evidence he had on me. This could work. I was about to press the checkout button when I realized the problem. My husband would look at our joint Amazon Prime account. The stuff I had ordered was strange. Explainable, but suspicious. I signed out of our joint account, made a new G-mail address, and then created a new Amazon account. Perfect. Free trial of Prime. It was my lucky day. I added everything back into my cart and was about to check out again, but paused. Damn it. My stupid husband looked at the credit card statements too. He’d want to know what I purchased. I stared at the items in the cart. I wouldn’t risk it. I’d have to ask to borrow Ben’s credit card.

I glanced at the timer counting down how soon I’d have to place my order if I wanted to get it in two business days. I had a few hours. Ben would be here soon, and I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if I used his credit card. I’d pay him back in cash. Although, it was best if he didn’t see the items in my cart either. I exed out of the screen to hide it and rubbed my hands together. I felt like a diabolical genius.

On Monday I’d be able to start getting rid of all the documents. In the meantime, it would be good to see what I was up against. I walked over to the basement door and undid the latch. I tried to pretend I was going into a normal basement. A dank and scary place with tons of spiders and mold.

I walked down the plush carpeted stairs. The windows along the top of the walls illuminated the space so much that I didn’t need to turn on the lights. I looked around at all the file cabinets. All the shelves with different color binders. All the folders lining every inch of shelf space. I crossed my arms in front of my chest, suddenly cold. It was more than I remembered.

I walked over to one of the shelves and lifted up a folder with my name and a date. It was a copy of a psychologist appointment with an updated list of meds. I shoved it back into place. This had gotten so much worse than the last time I'd been down here. I ran my fingers along the folders. Every appointment. Every checkup. Every single misstep. Every. Single. Fucking. Thing.

I took a step back and stared at the shelves. Thousands of documents all proving that I couldn’t take care of myself. That I was crazy. These shelves were what was crazy. He was the one that had lost his damn mind. Who did this? What kind of sick person kept tabs on their wife l

ike this?

What was I thinking? It was all too much. It would be better to just set the whole freaking house on fire. It would take me forever to shred all these documents. And my husband would surely notice before I could even make a dent.

Luckily I had added kerosene to my Amazon cart on a whim. That smart little boy was on to something. It would be better spread around down here than in a toilet bowl though. I was just about to head back upstairs when I noticed a space along the wall that wasn’t as colorful. Actually, it was completely black.

A huge safe had been installed against one of the walls. It took up a whole row of shelf space. I walked over to it and studied the keypad. When had this been put in? I typed in my husband’s birthday and it buzzed at me. Then my birthday with the same response. Both our names, our last name, a few combinations of out birthdays and initials. Nothing.

I slammed my palm against the keypad, making it buzz again. You stupid piece of shit! I wasn’t sure if I was referring to my husband or the safe. What are you hiding? I grabbed both sides of it and tried to shake it, but it stayed completely still.

“Addy?” Ben’s voice drifted down into the basement.

Oh, shit. He couldn’t see any of this. Shit, shit, shit!

Chapter 30

It was hard to run up the stairs on a sprained ankle. Not impossible, just terribly, excruciatingly painful.

Ben made it to the top of the staircase before I was even a few steps up.

I could not let him see all this. “Just a sec!” I called as I forced myself to keep going.

He took a step down toward me.

“I said I’m coming. Hold your horses.”

He laughed. “Let me help…”

“I’m fine!” My voice was shrill and not nearly as demanding as I would have hoped. It sounded crazy. How utterly fitting.

“Someone’s in a good mood today,” Ben said with a laugh. He started walking down the stairs toward me, completely ignoring my demands.

The audacity of this man. “I said I was fine. Go back upstairs.” It sounded like I was shooing a pesky dog.

He stopped on the step above mine. “Nice to see you too, Addy.” He had such a charming smile, I almost forgot about the horrible files behind me. Almost.