Emderdin

    She knows.    The thought had crept in quietly and festered in the back of my head like a corpse.  When I finally noticed it there, I managed to write it off as paranoia for a time, but at some point it had transformed into a certainty.    I had been so careful, too.  I deleted my text messages, encrypted my emails, and changed my Facebook password weekly, just in case.  I never took calls while we were having family time, and I had developed a list of fool-proof excuses over the years to explain my long nights, or the occasional odd scent of perfume or cloves.  I had never intended to hurt her.  The world is a screwed up place someti