A Good Marriage(115)

Amanda thought about showing him the texts on her phone. But from her own father? She was too ashamed to admit it. Any of it.

“It’s nothing,” she began. “It’s just—I’m not great at parties. I get overwhelmed.”

Sebe frowned. “But it’s something more than that, isn’t it?” he asked, more concerned now, and in a clinical, doctorly way. “Because you really don’t seem yourself.”

Amanda jumped when her phone vibrated once more. But it was only Zach this time: Left party. Have to stop at office. See you later at home.

“Who’s that?” Sebe asked, even more alarmed.

“Zach,” Amanda said, her voice hoarse. “He left. Without even finding me to say goodbye or offering to walk me home. What kind of husband does that?”

“A not very good one,” Sebe said, but delicately. He finally came over to sit down on the bed next to her.

“Zach is an awful husband actually,” Amanda said. It was the first time she’d ever said anything like that out loud about her marriage: the sad, ugly truth. “He always has been. He doesn’t love me. I don’t think he loves anybody.”

Sebe was quiet for a moment. “I’m sorry,” he said finally. “Do you want me to walk you home?”

Amanda did her best not to burst into tears again. “Maybe, but I’m not—”

Her phone had vibrated again.

Get the fuck away from Sebe.



Amanda jumped to her feet and bolted. She flew down the stairs as Sebe shouted after her.

When Amanda hit the living room, there were even more people near the front door. Way too many to push through. She tried anyway. She was scared enough to shove. But everyone was so drunk they didn’t even notice.

“Go out the back.” A drunken man in a jester’s hat pointed a wavering finger on his way to the bathroom. “There’s an alley with a gate to the street. All the lazy assholes are going out that way. The racist neighbor lady calls the police. But fuck her, anyway.”

Amanda ran out the back door and raced down the alley, waiting for somebody to yell at her, for hands to grab hold as she sprinted all the way down Prospect Park West in her platform heels. But she heard nothing except the ragged sound of her own breathing, and the desperate pounding of her frantic heart.





Lizzie





JULY 12, SUNDAY


“At the party, I finally started putting the pieces together,” Maude went on. “Everyone was so drunk, and all the confidentiality with the email investigation went right out the window. Before long, I’d learned that the person behind the hacking was possibly a parent, and that it had all started in April. Then Amanda tells me about some printouts of scheduling emails from Brooklyn Country Day she found in Zach’s desk drawer. Even though he claimed the school didn’t have his email. That was how they’d hacked in, the scheduling emails. And why would he have printouts? Then Sarah adds that Zach is bankrupt. All of it together …” She shook her head. “I didn’t know for sure, obviously. That’s why I wanted to confront Zach. I thought I’d be able to tell from his reaction. But when I tried to find him at the party, he was already gone.”

“Maude, please,” Sebe whispered, then closed his eyes. “Stop.”

She squeezed his hand again, until he opened his eyes. “I love you, Sebe. But there isn’t going to be any way through this except with the truth.” Maude turned back to look at me. “I’m not saying it was Zach himself who contacted Sophia. According to that security company, there were probably a bunch of different people doing the actual hacking. And Sophia said she got the feeling it was somebody younger who was messaging her. But it doesn’t really matter: Zach, given who he was, must have been in charge—it’s all his responsibility. Everything that happened is. Sophia is fifteen years old, and that man had her performing live sex acts on camera.” She blanched, then closed her eyes. “He probably recorded them.”

Zach had been hacking into the neighborhood parents’ computers? It was possible. He’d have the technological know-how. From what that New York Times profile had described, logistics involved a lot of personal information, didn’t it? And at this point Zach certainly seemed capable of anything. The financial disclosure, Sam’s drinking—had he hacked into our computer, too?

“What happened after you couldn’t find Zach at the party?” I asked, trying to stay focused. I still needed hard evidence to clear Sam.

“I’ll admit it: I was out of my mind. In a complete rage. I was going to make Zach admit what I was sure he’d done to Sophia. Somebody said he’d gone home, so I went to his house to find him. But when I got to Zach and Amanda’s, no one was there. I wasn’t about to give up, though. I decided to go in and get those emails that Amanda had talked about. I was going to go to the police with them. I figured it would be enough—at least for them to look into Zach and the hacking. And I’d seen once where Amanda kept her spare key.”

“I wish you’d told me you were going, Maude,” Sebe said quietly.

“You were upstairs talking to Amanda. Somebody said she ran upstairs, and you followed,” Maude said, so certain, it seemed, that they were only talking—she and Sebe did have their limits, after all. “And I wanted to go while Amanda was here and not at home. I didn’t want to lose it on Zach in front of her. I knew she’d feel responsible. Besides, you would have stopped me.”