One night, after everyone went to sleep, I did something I never thought I would do: I took the memory card from Mike’s dashcam.
I was shaking while I watched the footage.
The car didn’t go near the places they’d mentioned.
Instead, it pulled up in front of a building I barely recognized. Mike got out. Vivian followed. They walked inside.
He came back alone.
I barely slept.
My mind filled in every worst-case scenario a mother can imagine.
The next evening, I confronted them.
I admitted I’d checked the dashcam.
Vivian looked stunned — then hurt.
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