The Answer

Warren's hand finds the belt buckle under his shirt as Claire's eyes stay fixed on the wig on the table. 'Yes,' he says, the word scraping out of him, and Claire's thumb drops from the photo as if burned. The key in his pocket presses against his thigh, and he pulls it out, setting it on the table beside the wig—a confession she can hold. Claire's fingers close around it, cold metal against her palm, and she asks, 'And him? Does he have the other one?'