My blood turned to ice.

I stayed frozen under the bed as the woman opened the closet, flipped through folders, and moved around the room as if she owned it.

Then came the sentence that shattered me:

“Daniel never should’ve married her. But whatever… this will all be over by tomorrow.”

My throat closed. Something terrible was happening, and I was hearing it from the shadows like an intruder in my own life.

Then the door opened again—this time with heavy, familiar footsteps.

Daniel.