I Was About to Marry My Mistress, 30 Years Younger Than Me.

I watched the screen intently.

A woman entered the camera frame from the left side.

It was my daughter, Christina, carrying a thick Manila folder in her hands.

A few seconds later, Florence entered the frame from the opposite side.

They began talking to each other, though no sound was recorded.

Christina pointed her finger firmly toward something sitting outside the camera’s view.