I looked at him in total silence, amazed. Sometimes I still secretly hoped to see the little boy who used to fall asleep clutching a stuffed dinosaur.

But in front of me stood a brilliant, cold young man who was dangerous to anyone who dared touch his mother.

“There’s much more to this story,” Luke said, tapping the screen.

He opened another folder containing clear photos of me greeting corporate clients, entering restaurants, leaving business meetings. Every single one had been taken from precise angles calculated to make it look as though I were having a secret affair.

“Brenda sent every one of these to Christopher,” Luke explained. “And he chose to believe them, because it suited his agenda. That way he could justify his own behavior with her.”

I felt a deep disgust, but I wasn’t surprised. “Does Christopher know about the chemical poison?” I asked.