Nor in a campsite.

Not even outside the city.

There he was, in a residential neighborhood, at the address of a small house I didn't recognize. An ordinary place. Almost too ordinary.

I didn't think. I grabbed my keys. I told the kids I was going out. I got in the car, my throat tight, my thoughts racing.

When I arrived in front of the house, I turned off the engine. I watched silently. The shutters were open. A car was parked in front. Then, after a few minutes, the door opened.

And he went out.

My husband…..

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