He Told Her My House Was Already Hers

near the bookshelves. I knew where it was because we’d chosen the damned painting together, a dull landscape with too much sky. Ethan said hidden safes only worked if the art above them was forgettable.

He was right about that.

I moved the frame aside.

Keypad.

Six digits.

For a stupid second I thought of our anniversary. His birthday. Mine.

No.

Ethan liked continue reading …