The person on the screen was Julian. He wore his gray work jacket, glanced around the lot, and slipped into my SUV using a spare key I never knew he had. My hands went numb. “That’s my husband,” I whispered. The guard nodded grimly. “He did the same thing twice last month, ma’am. We just never connected it.” On the screen, Julian drove away calmly.

The guard clicked ahead. Forty minutes later, Julian’s face appeared again, parking my SUV three rows over, then locking it and walking off. He glanced at his phone and smiled. My stomach turned. “Why would he do this?” I asked. The guard hesitated. “Ma’am, you should call someone before you go home. Because he is not alone in that footage.”