How My Husband Planned My Ruin and Built His Own Downfall
The device was warm to the touch, indicating it was actively recording and storing data to an internal drive.
With trembling fingers, I reached into the back of the device and pulled out the tiny, black MicroSD card.
I slipped the card into my pocket and carefully replaced the plastic backing of the bear.
I stood up, my knees shaking, and walked quickly out of the nursery.
I needed to find a computer to read the files, but I couldn’t use the one in Jared’s study.
I hurried down the stairs to my private sewing room on the second floor.
I locked the door behind me and drew the blinds.
My old laptop sat on the small desk in the corner, covered by a decorative cloth.
I powered it on, the screen casting a pale blue light across my face.
I inserted the MicroSD card into the reader slot.
The computer chimed, and a folder labeled *REC_04* appeared on the desktop.
I clicked it open, revealing dozens of video files organized by date.
I scrolled down to the date of my supposed breakdown, the night Dr. Haynes had signed the papers.