“Mom, why don’t we just use the secret car Daddy drives?”
I froze. My hands, holding a rag and a sponge, went still.
“Secret car?” I repeated gently, keeping my voice soft.
We were only halfway through cleaning, and I didn’t need this distraction, but I had to know what Owen meant.
He nodded, casually picking at a dried leaf.
“Yeah, the shiny blue one. The lady always lets Daddy drive it.”
My pulse raced.
“What lady, buddy?”
Owen shrugged, totally unbothered.
“The nice one with curly hair. They were laughing, and she gave Daddy the keys. I saw them when Lila was watching me. You were at Grandma’s.”
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