It took her a moment to get her bearings.I’m in bed. Tom’s bed. Had a night out with Trish. Drank too much.Another buzz.My phone. On the nightstand next to the bed.Joan reached for it, squinting at the text message. It was from Trish, in all caps.INDENTITY THEFT!!!!As Joan puzzled over what that could mean, and why it warranted four exclamation points, a follow-up text appeared.Roy didn’t go to Hilton! Someone cloned his credit card! He’s not cheating!!!Joan texted back an emoji smiley face. Then she checked her messages.Nothing new from Tom.She frowned in the darkness. Joan still hadn’t listened to any of his previous messages. She had been waiting for him to come home, to deal with it in person.Was he still at the hospital? Had that bite been more serious than Joan had guessed?Or was he someplace else?A bar?A hotel?With his incredibly hot, bisexual co-worker, Eva?At work, chasing The Snipper?Joan tried to tune into her feelings. Earlier, she’d been self-righteous in her anger.
