He slid a printed screenshot across the metal table.

It was a log of the IP address used to access the secure network.

The IP address belonged to my home router.

“This login was initiated from your residence,” Vance said.

I stared at the black numbers printed on the white page.

My breathing became shallow, and the room seemed to shrink.

Daniel.

He knew my password.

He had watched me type it dozens of times while he sat on the living room couch, pretending to play games on his phone.

I remembered him asking me about my security clearance last week, his voice casual, almost bored.

“Must be nice to have access to things the rest of the world can’t see,” he had said, smiling over his coffee cup.

It was the same week Patricia had threatened to take Emma away from me.

“Captain Morgan?” Vance’s voice broke through my thoughts.

“I was asleep at that hour, sir,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

“Can anyone verify your whereabouts?”

“My husband,” I said.

The word felt like ash on my tongue.