The eyes of my husband, Connor Crawford, landed on me. They were filled with greed.As I looked at the man in front of me, I felt like I didn't know him.Seeing me freeze, he stepped closer. "What's wrong? Feeling tired?""No," I said, swallowing the wave of nausea. I turned around and reached out to touch my son Sean Crawford's hair.But the boy I had raised for six years jerked his head away from my touch and looked behind Connor instead. "Dad, where's Ms. Larsen? Didn't she say she'd come see me?"His tone carried a blatant coldness toward me but an unabashed intimacy toward my underclassman in college, Willa Larsen.It hit me like a stab to the heart."She'll be here soon," Connor said with a smile, trying to calm him down.Then, he turned to me and went straight to the point. "Honey, a house near the school is necessary—"My voice was hoarse as I cut him off, saying, "The houses near Ellwyn Elementary, even the older ones, cost 7,000 dollars per square foot. Three million
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