He lowered himself carefully into a chair.

“It’s complicated.”

“How often?”

“Sometimes.”

“Once a month?”

He hesitated.

“Maybe twice.”

I watched him.

Seven years with somebody teaches you things no shared password can.

I knew when Ethan was leaving out the part he hoped I wouldn’t ask about.

“I want Lauren’s number.”

His head snapped up.

“Why?”

“Because I want to hear the truth from someone who isn’t trying to control how I receive it.”

“Don’t drag Lauren into our marriage.”

I stared at him.

“Her daughter’s drawing was in your pocket. She is already involved.”

He looked down.

“Give me her number.”

“Annika, I can explain.”

“You already told me you see Mia twice a month, and I don’t believe you’re telling me everything.”

His expression changed.

“Give me the number.”

This time, he did.

Lauren agreed to meet me that afternoon.

I left Atlas and Owen with my neighbor again.

Normally, I would have explained every feeding time and every small detail before leaving.

This time, I simply showed her the formula.

“Call me if you need me.”

She smiled.

“I’ve got them, Annika.”

A week earlier, that sentence would have made me nervous.

That day, I just left.

Lauren was already sitting at a corner table when I arrived.

She looked almost as uncomfortable as I felt.

“I’m sorry,” she said immediately.

“I don’t need apologies yet. I need facts.”

She nodded.

“When did Ethan find out?”

“About eighteen months ago.”

“Did he know before then?”

“No. I raised Mia alone. I was fine doing that for years. Then she started asking questions about her father.”

I believed her.

“How often does Ethan see her?”

Lauren looked down at her coffee.

I waited.

“Usually once a week.”

I leaned back.

“Was the drawing recent?”

“She made it Saturday.”

Three days before Ethan’s accident.

Saturday.

The day Ethan had told me he was helping someone from work move.

“And she knows about Atlas and Owen?”

Lauren’s expression softened.

“Yes.”

“What exactly does she know?”

“Ethan talks about them all the time.”

My stomach tightened.

“She calls them her brothers.”

I stared at her.

“Has she met them?”

“No.”

That mattered more than I expected.

Lauren continued.