His expression changed.
Only slightly.
But after fourteen years of marriage, I noticed.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then you won’t mind helping investigators understand them.”
The room became silent.
Julian slowly set down what he was holding.
“Investigators?”
“Yes.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Why would you involve anyone before talking to me?”
“Because my signature is on documents I don’t remember signing.”
For the first time all evening, his calm exterior slipped.
“You’ve always been suspicious.”
“No,” I said quietly. “I’ve actually trusted you for fourteen years.”
He turned away.
Then turned back.
“Who found the files?”
I didn’t answer.
His expression told me enough.
He already knew there were files to find.
That was the moment my fear became certainty that something was terribly wrong.
I stood up.
Julian stepped toward me.
Before either of us said another word, voices came from outside.
