The third text was from an unknown number.

*You are a bitter, jealous bitch. You are ruining a baby’s life. – Kayla.*

I deleted all of them.

I sat in my car for a moment, gripping the steering wheel.

My hands were shaking, but not from fear.

It was the sudden realization that the walls were finally closing in on him.

I walked through the heavy glass doors of the lobby and took the elevator to the fourth floor.

The office was quiet, filled with the low hum of fluorescent lights and the clicking of keyboards.

I sat at my desk and turned on my computer.

My manager, Marcus, walked by with a ceramic mug of tea.

He stopped near my cubicle and looked at me.

“Everything alright, Avery?” he asked.

“You look a bit pale today.”

“I’m fine, Marcus,” I said, forcing a polite smile.

“Just a lot of personal things to sort out.”

“That husband of yours called the main line yesterday,” Marcus said, his brow furrowing.

“He was incredibly rude to the receptionist.

If he calls here again, let me know.