Daniel pulled out his phone and set it on the table, screen up. “Brooke, I have been recording since you hugged me at the door,” he said calmly. “Trevor, you might want to come in from the garage.” Trevor stood in the doorway with a case of beer, pale. Daniel pressed play, and Brooke’s whisper filled the dining room: “What a shame we didn’t find each other first.” My mother dropped her fork.

Brooke lunged for the phone, but Daniel lifted it away. “I also sent this to Trevor’s phone, and to your mother’s, while you were still talking,” he added. Trevor’s face went gray as his own phone buzzed in his hand. Brooke screamed again, and I sat frozen, my hand on my belly, realizing my husband had never once been in doubt.