I stared at the paperwork.
My house.
My savings.
My signature.
Everything I had spent a lifetime building had become part of a plan I didn’t understand.
“Why marry me?” I whispered.
Helen took my hand.
“Because he wanted something you had.”
But I couldn’t stop thinking about the way Daniel looked at me when he brought me flowers, the way he laughed at my jokes, and the way he held me when I cried about Robert.
Had any of it been real?
Or had I spent six months sharing my bed with a stranger who was waiting for the right moment to take everything from me?
On Thursday evening, I returned home.
Helen wanted to come with me, but I told her I needed to see Daniel without warning him that I knew about the documents.
She reluctantly agreed to wait nearby while I contacted the police and followed their advice about staying safe.
