Ellsworth lost his medical license before his trial even began, and then pled guilty to conspiracy and went away for twenty-five years.

And Beckett: the forensic audit laid his whole second life bare: months of planning, hundreds of thousands in hidden gambling debts, forged loan applications, the transfers out of my family’s accounts, and a two-million-dollar life insurance policy he had quietly taken out on me four months into my pregnancy.

He had not made one desperate mistake.

He had been building a life on top of my grave for the better part of a year.

At his sentencing he looked twenty years older, hollowed out, in a jumpsuit with his hands chained to his waist, while his expensive lawyer described a good man undone by a wicked woman and financial stress.