The Day I Dropped My Husband at the Airport, My Eight-Year-Old Daughter Warned Me Not to Go Home. Minutes Later, I Saw Why.

She laid out the recordings, digital records, financial documents, and statements in separate folders.

“Your account is important,” she said.

“But I don’t want you carrying the entire case on your shoulders.

We have to establish what we can prove independently.”

I nodded.

“I’m used to wanting every detail.”

“I know.

You’ve worked as a dispatcher for years.”