"Harry," she called out, her voice brisk but warm, "something urgent came up at the university. I need to head back for a bit. Don't touch the dishes; I'll clean them when I get back."
She was already halfway out the door before I could respond.
Alexa rarely worked overtime. She was efficient and meticulous, managing her time so she almost never had to be called in on weekends. As her hurried footsteps disappeared, an unsettling weight pressed on my chest.
I grabbed my coat and followed. While Alexa headed for the garage, I hailed a cab and parked discreetly at the curb.
"Please follow that car," I instructed the driver, my voice low.
The driver gave me a knowing look and nodded. "Don't worry, mister. I won't lose it."
Alexa's car weaved through the city streets before turning into the familiar grounds of Carbel University. I watched from a distance as she parked and walked briskly toward the teaching building.
Her pace slowed as she reached a secluded area just outside the building. I squinted, trying to make out what she was doing.
Then, a figure emerged from the shadows. A man.