The Secret Ingredient Hidden in the Recipe That Exposed My Husbands Darkest Lie
I scrambled backward, dropping the phone.
It clattered against the floor, the screen facing up.
Another comment had appeared on the blog.
*baking_shadows*: “I’ve taken a screenshot. I’m calling the police.”
Panic surged through me, cold and sharp.
I grabbed the phone and ran back to the laptop.
I had to delete the post.
I had to take it down before the police arrived, before Julian saw what had happened.
I clicked the login button again.
My hands were shaking so badly I missed the keys twice.
I typed the password we had shared for five years.
*Error: Incorrect password.*
I tried his birthday.
*Error: Incorrect password.*
I tried the name of our first dog.
*Error: Incorrect password. Your account has been temporarily locked due to multiple failed attempts.*
I let out a low, desperate sob.
I grabbed the laptop, intending to physically unplug the router.
The router was kept in Julian’s locked office on the second floor.
I ran to the office door and grabbed the brass knob.
It was locked.
“Julian, please,” I whispered to the empty hallway.
I ran back down to the kitchen.