Sterling Digital.
Commercial real estate. Banking technology. Hospital investments. A charitable foundation whose name appeared on buildings in three states.
I looked at him again.
“Wait.”
He closed his eyes for half a second.
“You know now.”
“You’re Luca Sterling?”
“Unfortunately, sometimes.”
I stared.
He had used the exact same words.
Then I laughed.
I could not help it.
After everything that had happened that week, discovering that the quiet man who had folded a napkin into a ridiculous bird for my daughter was Luca Sterling was somehow the least believable part.
“You could have told me.”
“You could have asked for my last name.”
“That feels like information most people volunteer before asking a stranger to fake being their wife.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“I asked you to pretend to be asleep.”
“Same level of weird.”
“Fair.”
His phone vibrated.
He looked down.
The humor disappeared from his face.
I noticed immediately.
“What is it?”
He did not answer at first.
His thumb moved across the screen.
Then he turned the phone toward me.
The photograph had been taken inside LaGuardia.
David was standing near the arrivals area in a gray jacket.
I knew that jacket.
Next to him were a man and woman I did not recognize.
The message beneath the picture came from someone named Marcus.
Man says he is David Vance. Arrived with two licensed PIs. Asking airport personnel whether Blaire Vance and minor daughter are on inbound ORD flight. Says emergency custody matter. Counsel checking public docket now.
The cabin suddenly felt too small.
“That’s my husband.”
Luca looked at me.
“Your husband?”
“Technically.”
My hands began shaking.
I hated that he saw it.
Luca turned the phone away.
“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“I told him Fiona was safe.”
“Okay.”
“He changed the locks three days ago.”
Luca’s expression hardened.
“He put our things outside. He cut off my access to the household account. I told him we were staying with family.”
The phone vibrated again.
Luca read the new message.
“There appears to be a filing in Cook County,” he said carefully. “My attorney is pulling it.”
“What filing?”
“It says emergency custody.”
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“What does that mean?”
“I’m not the person who should explain that.”
His answer surprised me.
A different man might have pretended to know everything.
Luca did not.
“But,” he continued, “I have attorneys who can make sure you speak with the right person before you walk into that terminal.”
