Confessions on the 7:45(62)

It was almost one, and her mother would be picking up the boys from school soon. She’d promised Oliver answers by the time he got home. She didn’t have any. Not one. And now there were only more questions.

Where was Geneva?

What had Graham done?

How was she going to hold their life together for the boys?

She was shaking from deep in her core. She sat on her free hand, so that Detective Crowe wouldn’t see how scared she was.

Detective Crowe had questions, too. She knew she shouldn’t answer any of them. But here he was. There was something safe and upright about him, in the way he leaned toward her, gaze steady. Something comforting about his presence.

“How long did you know that Geneva Markson and your husband were having an affair?” he asked, voice gentle.

There was no point in lying now. The police apparently knew everything.

On the table in front of her, she stared at a printout of texts between Graham and Geneva. Somehow these had also been leaked to the media. Who would do that?

Graham: I’m still raw from fucking you. Hurts so good.

Geneva: I can still taste you in my mouth.

God. How disgusting. There were two full pages. She’d barely read any of it. But she’d read enough.

“About a week,” she said. She sank back into the plush of the sofa. “I caught them on the nanny cam.”

“So—you lied.” He seemed tired with the knowledge. She was just another liar sitting before him, one of many probably.

“Yes,” she said with a nod.

She almost apologized and then didn’t. Because why should she? Why should her husband have fucked the nanny, and then that woman disappear?

And then, as if that wasn’t bad enough, why should Graham and Geneva’s disgusting, raunchy texts—revealed when police accessed Geneva’s phone logs—have been leaked to the media this morning?

And then, after all of that, why should Selena have to apologize for trying to protect her children—her life—from the shameful actions of her husband?

“Why?” asked Detective Crowe. “Why did you lie to me?”

“Hmm,” she said, putting a hand to her chin in mock wondering. “I don’t know. Shame. Fear. A fervent hope that I could hold my life together until this was all revealed to be a silly mistake. Denial, maybe.”

“Okay,” he said, lifting a hand. “I get it. I do.”

He’d come alone, without his partner—who was no doubt interrogating Graham. Will was at the station with them. She’d watched enough police procedure shows to know that this was probably by design. Separate the husband and wife. Catch Selena at home when she was weak and afraid, when the lawyer had bigger fish to fry.

She should have turned him away when he came to the door. That would have been the right and smart thing. I can’t talk to you without my lawyer present, she should have said. But she hadn’t. And now here they sat.

Maybe if she hadn’t been alone reading those texts online, and all the comments about them on Twitter, on Reddit, she wouldn’t have been so desperate for any kind of company. She was actually happy when she saw him standing there on the porch, an honest person looking for answers. Just like Selena.

“Can we agree to move forward with the truth?” he asked.

The truth. What a slippery concept.

“Yes.”

“Did you know about the texts?”

“No.” Heat rose from her neck to her cheeks.

The raunchy, dirty, humiliating missives added a new layer to Geneva’s disappearance. There was some violence to the exchange—threats of bondage, punishment.

I want to spank you till you scream.
I’m going to tie you up and take you from behind.
Really? Not Graham’s thing, Selena wouldn’t have thought. But what did she know? Also leaked: Geneva’s affair with Erik Tucker. There was apparently a text chain associated with that relationship, as well. Equally vile.

On Twitter there was already a trending hashtag: #TheNaughtyNanny.

Selena’s phone was ringing and pinging every few minutes. She kept checking it to make sure it wasn’t her mother or the school. The last text from Beth: I’m coming to your house.

Her house—which she thought was made of bricks, was made of straw.

There were other texts, too, between Graham and someone else. Apparently now they had access to his phone. More nastiness. Words used that Selena had never known to cross her husband’s mind, let alone his lips. Those communications, too, were borderline violent, dark. Even more unsettling:

I know who you are. And I know what you did.
You won’t get away with it. I promise.
She imagined they must have taken Graham’s phone. But she didn’t know. She didn’t know how things like this worked. Would they want her phone? Was she required to give it to them if they didn’t have a warrant?

Detective Crowe nodded toward the printouts on the table between them. Selena felt vulnerable suddenly. She shouldn’t have let him in, should have waited for Will. Another mistake.

“Any idea who this might be?” he asked. “What this person might have seen? What Graham wasn’t going to get away with?”

Amazingly, there was a part of her that still wanted to lie. It was me, she wanted to say. Just a little role-playing game.

Partially to protect her children, by protecting their father.