Chapter 4

I sat in our home office, the silence pressing against my ears like a physical weight. The house felt different now—every corner harboring secrets, every surface tainted by lies. I ran my fingers along the spines of the books Michael kept meticulously arranged on his shelves, wondering how many times he'd sat here plotting his deception while I was at work or at another futile fertility appointment.

"There has to be something," I whispered to myself. "Some evidence beyond the credit card statement."

My eyes fell on the corner of the room where an older laptop sat on a small…