A crumpled note slipped out of the sleeve. A black flash drive was taped underneath it.
The note read:
“Your husband is lying to you. Watch the video. Alone.”
My heart pounded so hard my vision blurred.
That night I waited until Daniel fell asleep. When his breathing finally settled, I slipped out of bed, carried my laptop into the kitchen, and sat at the table in the dark.
My hands trembled as I plugged in the flash drive.
One file appeared. A long string of numbers for a name.
I clicked it.
The first thing that struck me was the timestamp in the corner.
It was the day Grace died.
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