Joel started getting sloppy. Or maybe I just stopped pretending not to notice.
On a Friday night in late October, he told me he had a work dinner. He kissed Iris goodnight, grabbed his jacket, and said he'd be home late. I nodded. Smiled. Waited until his car pulled out of the driveway.
Then I opened the Find My app on my phone.
The little dot that was Joel sat in Brooklyn Heights. Not downtown. Not at any restaurant I recognized. Just a residential address I'd seen before in Elena's report.
I took a screenshot. Added it to the folder.
When he came home that night, he smelled like perfume. Not mine. Something sweeter. Heavier. I leaned in when he kissed my cheek and made a note of it later: Chanel Chance. The pink bottle. I'd seen it on Selene's Instagram.
I didn't say anything.
Two days later, he took a phone call in the garage. I was in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher, and I heard his voice through the door. Warm. Relaxed. Laughing in a way I hadn't heard in years.
"No, no, I'll be there," he said. "Wouldn't miss it. Tell him Daddy's bringing the good cake."
Daddy.
I stood there with a plate in my hand, water dripping onto the floor, and I felt nothing. Just the cold, mechanical click of another piece of evidence sliding into place.
I checked the timestamp. Added it to the spreadsheet.
Every lie had a date now. A time. A location.
I was building something. I didn't know exactly what yet. But I knew it would be airtight.
---
Fallon called me on a Thursday night. "Come out with me. Just for a few hours. You need to leave that house before you lose your mind."
I almost said no. But Iris was at a sleepover, and Joel was—wherever Joel was. I looked at the empty brownstone and thought about sitting there alone with my folder and my spreadsheets and my rage that had nowhere to go.
"Okay," I said.
We met in Koreatown. Fallon knew a place with private karaoke rooms and cheap soju. She ordered too much food and poured me a drink I didn't want.
"You look like hell," she said.
"Thanks."
"I'm serious. When's the last time you slept?"
I shrugged. Sleep felt like something other people did. People who didn't have five years of financial records to cross-reference.
Fallon sighed and stood up. "I'm going to the bathroom. Drink something. Eat something. Try to remember you're human."
She left, and I sat there in the noise and the flashing lights, feeling like I was watching my life from underwater.
I got up to find the bathroom. The hallway was narrow and dimly lit, lined with private karaoke rooms. Music leaked out from behind closed doors. Laughter. Singing.
I walked past one room where the door was cracked open.
And I stopped.
Joel was inside.
He sat on a leather couch, his arm draped around Selene. She leaned into him, her head on his shoulder. The room was decorated with balloons. A birthday cake sat on the table, candles lit.
And Nikolas—small, dark-haired, maybe seven years old—stood on a chair in front of the cake, bouncing with excitement.
"Daddy! Daddy, watch me blow them out!"
Joel laughed. A real laugh. The kind I used to hear years ago, before something in him went quiet. He leaned forward and ruffled the boy's hair.
"Make a wish, buddy."
Nikolas squeezed his eyes shut. Joel watched him with a softness I hadn't seen in so long I'd forgotten it existed.
Selene reached up and touched Joel's face. He turned and kissed her. Not quickly. Not guiltily. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
I stood there in the hallway, and I felt my heart stop beating.
Not in the dramatic way. In the flat, factual way. Like someone had reached into my chest and turned off a switch.
I pulled out my phone. Raised it. Took a picture.
The flash didn't go off. The sound was muted. Nobody inside noticed.
I turned and walked away.
---
I don't remember leaving the building. I don't remember walking outside. But suddenly I was leaning against the brick wall in the alley, and the air was cold, and Fallon was in front of me.
"Daphne. Daphne, what happened?"
I looked at her. "I'm done."
My voice was calm. Steady. Like I was telling her the weather.
"Done with what?"
"All of it."
Fallon's face changed. She didn't ask questions. She just took my hand and hailed a cab.
We rode back to my place in silence. She followed me inside and sat on the couch while I went to my desk, opened my laptop, and pulled up the folder.
I uploaded the photo from the karaoke room. I labeled it. I added it to the timeline.
Then I kept working.
Fallon stayed on the couch, scrolling through her phone, occasionally glancing over at me. She didn't try to talk me out of anything. She didn't tell me to rest. She just stayed.
At some point, the sky outside started turning gray. Dawn.
I saved the file. Backed it up. Encrypted it.
Then I sat back in my chair and looked at the screen.
Five years of lies, organized by date. Every dollar accounted for. Every text message. Every receipt. Every moment Joel thought I didn't see.
I had built a case that could survive anything.
And I was ready to use it.
"Fallon," I said quietly.
She looked up. "Yeah?"
"I need a lawyer."
She nodded. "I know someone. Arthur Sterling. He's a shark."
"Good," I said.
I closed the laptop.
For the first time in weeks, I felt like I could breathe.
