Sometimes, in order to take two steps forward, you need to first take one step back. Or, maybe more apt here, in order to get free of a sucking quicksand, it is best not to struggle too frantically. To give in some, so that the sand goes quiet, stops working so ferociously to take you down.
At least that is Adelaide's instinct, when faced with the crumbling dissolution of her carefully executed deceptions. She could kick herself for not realizing that her husband would itemize their closets - she strongly suspects that he counts his own mastications, so she really should have predicted this. But how in the hell is one person, even one smart, careful person, supposed to think of every damn thing that a mind like TR Lansing's could come up with?
The rumor that Nina brought to her about her brother's name, the rumor she didn't doubt he would hear and the same rumor that prompted her to pack the bags in the first place, just in case... the combination had apparently been enough. TR isn't stupid.
As he lists off the items, names the biker camp, Adelaide knows that she will not come out of this conversation the same as she went into it. The knowledge flickers in her eyes, and she lets it. Trying to convince Thomas that he hasn't caught her in a lie will not help anything, now. Trying to keep up the entirety of the lie will only make it worse, keep him on the offensive. She needs instead to acknowledge, and do damage control.
Adelaide can feel the ground moving under her bare feet, shifting and shaking just like it always has, throughout the entirety of her young life - tectonic plates smashing together every few years to reshape the landscape lest she get too complacent. The dread is there, the wariness, but she knows there is nothing to be done but bend her knees and try not to let it knock her down.
"If I was planning to go," she finally says, meeting his gaze and letting her chin tilt upwards, not denying that she's been caught, but not cowed, either. There are goosebumps on her redhead-pale skin, droplets of water beading as she dries and tries not to shiver. She's always been prone to cold. "Why wouldn't I have done it already, Thomas?" It's a simple point, but she thinks it a poignant one. In truth she hasn't gone because her brother's fledgling revolution isn't ready to withstand the focused wrath of a scorned TR Lansing with the Capitol behind him, but he doesn't know that. Doesn't have any way of knowing that, she hopes to God. "Why would I wait around and take bubble baths, leave time for it to be discovered, instead of just going as soon as I'd packed those bags?"
Adelaide has been certain, since the beginning, that her husband would be all wrath in the face of this truth, but there is something interesting here, now. It takes her time to realize it, with the abruptness of this confrontation, but it is starting to creep in as she watches him, as that softened plea touches his expression, as she makes note of the fact that she hasn't been slapped into cuffs and hauled off for Dog King bait first thing. The speech that he led with is telling, as is the fact that he did it privately. Instead of raging accusations, instead of blame, Thomas seems almost hurt, wounded by her lack of faith in her own place at the top of his priorities list.