Chapter 3

I had been working as a cleaner at this company for exactly thirty-seven days.

In those thirty-seven days, I saw Jack enter the elevator with seven different women.

I saw him kissing his secretary in the stairwell. I saw him slip out the back door at 1:00 AM with a drunk female accountant.

I captured everything.

Stored in my phone, backed up in three places.

Jack thought I was busy.

Every morning before he left, he would ask me how my job interviews were going. I would list a few random company names, and he would just nod, keeping his eyes on his phone.

He had no idea I wasn't going to any interviews.

I was sitting in the coffee shop right across from his office.

I would order the cheapest lemonade and sit there all afternoon.

From that spot, I had a perfect view of his office window.

He rarely drew the blinds.

Once, I saw him press Chloe against his desk.

I took a sip of my lemonade and snapped a photo.

It was a bit blurry, but it was clear enough to show what they were doing.

On the thirty-eighth day, there was a small hiccup.

I was mopping the twelfth floor as usual. When I reached the men’s restroom, the door suddenly swung open.

Jack walked out.

Our eyes met.

I instinctively lowered my head and kept mopping.

He glanced at me, frowned, and pulled out his phone as he walked away, making a call.

"Yeah, the shipment is arriving tonight. Pick it up yourself. Don't let anyone see you."

His voice drifted away.

I kept my head down, mopping.

But my heart skipped a beat.

The shipment.

What shipment?

That night, while he was in the shower, I went through his briefcase.

Inside, I found a crumpled contract tucked into a blue folder.

I snapped photos of it and texted them to William.

Ten minutes later, William called.

"There’s something highly illegal about this shipment," his voice was dark. "The source is untraceable, the price is ridiculously low, and it's coming through an underground black-market channel."

"Can we track it?"

"Yes," he paused. "But Sera, think carefully. If this gets out, it won't just end in a divorce. He will go to prison."

I was silent for three seconds.

"Track it."

After hanging up, I put the contract back exactly as I found it and closed the briefcase.

When Jack came out of the shower, I was folding laundry.

"Why are you so productive today?" he asked casually.

"Just had some free time," I smiled.

He grunted, lay down on the couch, and scrolled through Snapchat.

I kept folding.

My mind was on something else.

Today was day thirty-eight.

Thirty-eight videos, twenty-three recordings, seventeen documents.

With all of this combined, how many years would he get?

On the fortieth day, Wednesday.

He bought flowers and went out with a woman as usual.

But I didn't follow him.

I took half a day off.

My excuse was "not feeling well."

Martha approved it and told me to go home and rest.

I left the building, got into a cab, and drove to a different place.

The local detention center.

There was a long line at the entrance, mostly families waiting to drop off items for inmates.

I stood in line for half an hour until it was my turn at the window.

"Who are you here to see?" the officer asked.

"Amber’s husband."

The officer flipped through his logbook. "Visiting hours are over. Come back tomorrow."

I nodded and walked away.

Once outside, I called William.

"Find out how long Amber’s husband was sentenced for, and what the charges were."

Two days later, the text came.

"Fifteen years. Drug trafficking."

I stared at the words on my screen for a long time.

Then, I smiled.

On the forty-fifth day.

The time had come.