But I’m a lawyer. My gut is my job. And my gut was screaming.
I started watching. Little things popped out:
– The way Molly blushed when Patrick walked in.
– How her laugh changed around him.
– How quickly she looked away when I entered the room.
Then one night, Tommy whispered it like a secret:
“Mommy has it. I saw it. With Daddy.”
The world tilted.
I brought it up with my sister over lunch. She stirred her iced tea and gave me the same line Patrick did: you’re stressed, you’re overworked, you’re imagining things.
Maybe they were right. Or maybe I was the only one actually paying attention.
So, I did what I do best: I built a case.
Two days later, without telling a soul, I had a professional security system installed. Discreet cameras with audio – living room, hallway, kitchen, nursery, playroom. Hidden in photo frames and behind stuffed animals.
No one noticed. Not Molly. Not Patrick.
That night I told Patrick I had an emergency deposition in Sacramento and would be gone for two nights.
He frowned. “Sacramento? You didn’t mention—”
“Came up last minute,” I said. “I’ll be back Thursday.”
He kissed me goodbye, promised to hold down the fort.
I checked into a hotel ten minutes away instead.
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