I pulled up the access history, my thumb hovering over the screen.

The digital log loaded. Her unique code had unlocked my front door exactly six times over the previous three months.

I cross-referenced the dates with my calendar. Every single visit matched a prenatal appointment or a blood-work lab visit that Damon had insisted I attend alone.

The first entry had occurred three days after Claire sat on my living room sofa, crying tears of joy as she agreed to become my daughter’s godmother.

But the security log wasn’t the only ghost in the machine.

A sickness settling deep in my bones, I opened our joint banking portal and navigated to the high-yield savings account Damon and I had created exclusively for hospital costs, delivery fees, and my unpaid maternity leave.