Chapter 4: Cracks in the façade

George didn’t expect anyone, which is why the knock at the front door jolted him from his thoughts like a gunshot. He glanced at the clock—3:07 PM.

Luna, seated quietly in the living room with a book in hand, looked up and began to rise.

“I’ll get it,” George said quickly, striding toward the door.

A flicker of hope surged in his chest irrational but strong. Emily. Maybe she’d finally come to her senses. Maybe all of this had just been a test. If she was back, none of this mattered. He could send this unsettling stranger packing.

George paused at the mirror in the hallway, brushing his hair into place with a dab of spit. Emily hated when he looked disheveled. He wanted to be ready just in case.

But when he opened the door, his hope was dashed.

It wasn’t Emily.

It was Olivia Morgan, Emily’s closest friend—and a tenacious investigative journalist with a sharp eye for lies.

Disappointment tightened his throat. Still, he forced a smile.

“Olivia. Didn’t expect to see you.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Clearly. You look like hell, George.”

He stepped aside, reluctantly. “Come in.”

Olivia walked in with her usual confidence, wrapped in a tailored coat and scanning the room with eyes that missed nothing.

“I’ve been trying to reach Emily,” she said. “She’s not answering. I thought I’d stop by before you spiraled into a bottle of whiskey and made bad decisions.”

“I’m fine,” George said, a bit too quickly.

Olivia’s eyes shifted toward Luna, who had returned to her seat and reopened her book, legs crossed, as though nothing had happened.

Olivia’s smile cooled. “And you are?”

Luna stood, smooth and calm. “Luna. George’s wife.”

The room went still.

“I wasn’t aware Emily had… changed names,” Olivia said slowly.

“She didn’t,” Luna replied, unblinking. “I’m temporary.”

George cleared his throat. “It’s… complicated.”

Olivia turned to him, voice sharp. “Clearly. So where is Emily?”

George hesitated—just a beat too long.

“She had to leave for personal reasons,” he said. “We’re keeping things private right now.”

“And this?” Olivia gestured toward Luna. “This is part of the plan?”

“She’s here to maintain appearances,” Luna replied before he could speak. “To keep the media quiet. You know how rumors spread.”

“I am the media,” Olivia said flatly, her gaze narrowing.

Silence followed.

Then she gave a soft laugh, humorless and cutting. “You two must think everyone is blind.”

Luna tilted her head slightly. “You think we’re hiding something.”

“I know you are,” Olivia snapped. She turned back to George. “You really expect me to believe Emily would vanish without telling me? Without saying goodbye?”

George’s jaw clenched. “She needed space.”

Olivia stepped closer, voice low and dangerous. “Don’t lie to me, George. If you know where she is, say it. If you don’t… you should start worrying about why that is.”

Her stare lingered on both of them, sharp and suspicious. Then, without another word, she turned and left. Her heels echoed through the hallway like accusations.

The door closed behind her.

George stood in place, staring at it, a knot tightening in his chest. Then he turned to Luna.

“She’s going to dig,” he said. “She won’t let this go.”

Luna nodded. “Then we make sure there’s nothing for her to find. Don’t worry—the agency will handle her.”

George began pacing, his thoughts spinning. “She’s not just any reporter. She’s a professional lie detector. If anyone can tear this apart, it’s her.”

“She can’t find Emily,” Luna said quietly. “No one can. That’s why I’m here.”

He stopped cold. “What do you mean? Why can’t anyone find her?”

Luna looked at him then—and for the first time, the calm in her expression cracked, just slightly. Her voice was lower now, nearly a whisper.

“Because Emily didn’t just leave, George. She disappeared. She meant it when she said she wanted a life away from all this.”

George’s stomach dropped. “You’re saying... she’s gone?”

“She didn’t want to be found,” Luna said. “And as for Olivia... trust me, she’ll be handled.”