Chapter 12 - The Packing
I spent the entire day preparing for the escape in total, agonizing secrecy.
I could not pack a suitcase, as Garrett would undoubtedly notice missing clothes or bags.
Instead, I layered my clothing, wearing three thin long-sleeve shirts beneath my oversized maternity sweater.
I stuffed my small wallet, my original ID, and the burner phone into my deep coat pockets.
I hid the coat in the very back of the dark mudroom closet, ready to grab on my way out the back door.
Every hour felt like a heavy, dragging weight.
I tried to act normal, reading a book in the living room and drinking herbal tea.
But my nerves were entirely frayed, jumping at every single sound the massive house made.
At six o'clock, Garrett called to say he was bringing an associate home for a late dinner.
I felt a surge of relief, knowing he would be distracted by his arrogant need to show off.
I smiled at the associate, served the dinner the private chef had prepared, and played the quiet, submissive pregnant wife perfectly.
Garrett drank three glasses of heavy whiskey during dinner, boasting about his massive real estate victories.
By midnight, the associate had left, and Garrett was completely intoxicated and exhausted.
He stumbled into the master bedroom, stripping off his suit and crashing onto the bed.
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Within ten minutes, his heavy, rhythmic snoring filled the dark room.
The countdown had officially begun.
