I never thought I’d install hidden cameras on my own property. But after my husband Luke’s “business trips” became suspiciously rehearsed, and a call from an old neighbor raised more questions, I knew something was wrong.
We’d been married for seven years—on the outside, we were “relationship goals.” But my escape into work blinded me to the cracks forming in our marriage. Then I inherited,
a lake house—a sanctuary, mine alone. But one day, a neighbor called, telling me a man had used a key to get in. Luke claimed he was in Philadelphia. I didn’t confront him. Instead, I drove to the lake house to investigate. Everything was out of place—fresh candles, a lipstick-stained glass, and blonde hair in the drain. I installed security cameras and waited for answers.
