My Deceased Wife Wants a Divorce (Hannah) novel Chapter 170

The message was a video from a security camera. Before Sandra could even play it, a text followed.

Hannah: [This morning, she tried to give me Lionel's car keys. I wonder if there's something in the car she wanted me to find. Also, when he came home last night, he smelled of Cora's perfume, not yours.]

Sandra's fingers trembled, nearly dropping the phone. Her face a mask of disbelief, she tapped play on the video.

To an outsider, it would look like nothing more than a maid helping her employer out of a car. But Sandra knew women. It was a masterclass in making a move while appearing to do nothing at all.

She glanced at the timestamp on the footage, and her expression darkened. Lionel had left her house hours ago. Why had it taken him so long to get home? Combined with Hannah's message, a deeply unsettling thought began to form.

Suddenly, the video and the message were retracted.

Hannah: [Sent to the wrong person.]

Sandra stared at the four words. Wrong person, or a deliberate move? The answer was obvious.

"That bitch," she seethed, her tongue pressing against the inside of her cheek. "Trying to bait me into checking Lionel's car. Does she think I'm that stupid?"

She hadn't met Cora, but Hannah's message was enough to tell her the girl was trouble. She had assumed that once Hannah was gone, she could smoothly take her place. Now, this Cora had appeared—just a maid, yes, but one who was always by Lionel's side. If she made her move first, it could be a repeat of what happened with Hannah all those years ago.

Sandra set down her phone, closed her eyes, and chewed on her thumbnail, her mind racing.

An idea sparked in her mind.

The only one who hadn't...

"Lionel acted quickly this time as well. He did a good job helping you handle this."

Quennel had seen the news that morning and was surprised by how swiftly and effectively Lionel had seemed to manage the crisis. That was why he'd called immediately with his own update, afraid of being a step behind.

"It wasn't him. It was Yves—Mr. Lancaster," Hannah clarified.

On the other end of the line, Quennel's eyes darkened, but a self-assured smile played on his lips. "Mr. Lancaster was very thoughtful. I'll have to thank him properly one of these days."