Every time my brother-in-law drove me home, I would lose consciousness and wake up with unexplained aches and pains. My husband would only laugh and say, “You’re just out of shape, that’s all.” After the fourth ride, I secretly slipped a voice recorder into my purse and said nothing. That night, I listened to a phone conversation between the two of them that revealed my blackouts had never been accidental.

I asked whether I had been left alone with Marcus.

“We’re still establishing the movements of each person,” she said.

“I won’t speculate.”

I appreciated her caution more than I had at the beginning.

Uncertainty was painful, but false certainty would not protect me.

The archive also showed something Julian had apparently forgotten: an employee leaving the premises carrying a sealed records box.

That box was later traced to the storage company whose payment I had noticed.

Investigators recovered documents through legal process and reviewed them alongside the electronic files.