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On the day I returned to my old school for its hundredth anniversary, my assistant sent me a screenshot of a social media post. It read, [Hope my girl's first time on stage at eighteen goes well.] In the photo, a girl I didn't know was wearing the custom dress I designed, standing backstage, looking just like a swan. The post was from my husband, Danny Fisher, and he'd made sure I couldn't see it. Looking at the photo, I was about to call and confront Danny. The very next second, that girl stepped onto the stage for the school's anniversary, while I was sitting right in the front row. She was dressed exactly like in the photo, singing the song Danny wrote for me. I paused for a moment, pulled out my phone, snapped a picture of her performance, and sent it straight to Danny. I texted, [Hey babe, guess what? I just spotted my missing dress and necklace at school.] [And she's up there singing the song you wrote for me.] [Honestly, if you didn't know any better, you'd think she's my number one stalker.] [Tell me, if I called the cops now, how many years do you think she'd get?]