Chapter 3
I didn’t sleep that night.
I sat on the floor of Leo’s room, holding his favorite stuffed bear.
Mark tried to talk to me a few times.
I wouldn’t answer.
Every time I looked at him, I saw my son’s last moments.
I saw Leo waiting for a father who never came.
By morning, I’d made up my mind.
I was going to find out exactly where he was.
What he was doing.
Why he ignored us.
When Mark left for “work,” I grabbed his laptop.
I checked his call logs.
His messages.
His location history.
There was no record of a meeting.
No emails.
No texts about investors.
But his location showed something else.
From 1:00 a.m. until 4:00 a.m., he wasn’t at an office.
He was at a luxury apartment complex across town.
My hands shook as I wrote down the address.
I didn’t know anyone who lived there.
I’d never heard him mention that place.
I opened his photo gallery.
Hidden in a folder marked “Work Files” were dozens of pictures.
Pictures of Mark.
With another woman.
Laughing.
Kissing.
Lying in bed together.
The timestamps matched exactly.
While my son was fighting for his life, my husband was with someone else.
I felt sick.
I dropped the laptop and ran to the bathroom, throwing up until there was nothing left.
All those years.
All those lies.
May you like
He didn’t miss our son’s death because he was busy.
He missed it because he chose not to be there.
