They would prove that the toxic alterations were made after the defense draft was locked.

But the drive was still in the house.

The marital home I had fled two nights ago.

The house where Hunter was probably waiting for me.

I walked out of the lecture hall and down the empty corridor.

The linoleum floor smelled of industrial wax and damp coats.

I pushed through the glass lobby doors into the cold rain.

My car was parked in the faculty lot, covered in wet autumn leaves.

I got inside and started the engine.

The heater blew cold air into my face.

I wiped the fog from the windshield with my sleeve.

My phone vibrated on the passenger seat.

It was a text message from an unknown number.

I picked it up and unlocked the screen.

It was a photo of our home office desk.

The desk drawer was pulled open, its lock broken.

Sitting on the dark wood was my small silver backup drive, smashed into several pieces.

Beneath the photo, there was a single line of text.

*You should have stayed a quiet wife, Evelyn.*