Chapter 3

On the fifteenth day postpartum, the mistress sent me her first high-definition face photo.

She sat in my living room, legs crossed, drinking the coffee I bought.

The photo was captured from the surveillance camera in the living room... the one I installed when I was pregnant to watch the cat.

I never expected it would capture a wildcat.

Below the photo, she sent me a message.

"Your husband says he's taking me to Hawaii in a couple days. What do you think—which swimsuit should I wear?"

I stared at the photo for a long time.

She smiled arrogantly, her face directly facing the camera, without the slightest attempt at concealment, as if declaring her sovereignty.

I saved the photo.

Then I used another phone to send my best friend Bella a message.

"Bella, I need you to help me look someone up."

Bella was a cybersecurity engineer. Three seconds later she replied: "Tell me."

I sent her the mistress's profile picture.

"Help me find out everything about this person. Name, workplace, home address, assets under her name."

"Who is this?"

"The person destroying my marriage."

"Give me three hours."

Three hours later, Bella sent me a folder. It contained all of the woman's information.

Her name was Susan, twenty-three years old, a receptionist at some company. Married. Had a two-year-old daughter.

She'd been sued last year for defaulting on credit cards. No house or car under her name, renting in the low-income housing area in the north of the city.

I read through it line by line, memorizing all the key information.

Then I sent Bella another message.

"Bella, help me check Martinez's bank statements. I need to know how much money he transferred to Susan."

"How much did he transfer?"

"Every single transaction. Time, amount, purpose."

"Are you preparing to go to court for a divorce?"

I touched the incision on my abdomen. The scar from the C-section was still scabbing.

"No." I typed.

"I'm going to send them to prison."