A Thief in Her Own House
Weeks passed, and Daniël’s behavior grew more suspicious. One morning, while he took Lucy to the park, Emma stayed behind. She told him she wasn’t feeling well, but the truth was different—she needed answers.
Her hands shook as she searched their home. Drawers opened, bags were rifled through, cupboards checked. The house she once felt safe in suddenly felt foreign, as if she were trespassing in her own life. But her determination outweighed her guilt. Somewhere in these walls, the truth was hiding.
She Finally Found It
Just as she was about to give up, Emma opened Daniël’s wallet. Tucked inside was a folded piece of paper. Her heart pounded as she pulled it out.
On that paper, written in Daniël’s neat handwriting, was a chilling resolution. In an instant, every warning sign came rushing back—the isolation, the nighttime apologies, the excuses. Her husband had been lying for years.
Tears welled as anger mixed with fear. She had trusted him completely. Now, the mask had finally slipped.
Calling the Police
Emma grabbed her phone, her hands trembling. This wasn’t like her—she had never been rash or impulsive. Yet something inside told her she had no choice. She dialed the police.
As the call connected, the front door creaked open. Daniël stepped inside, casually announcing that Lucy was at a friend’s house for a playdate.
Emma’s pulse skyrocketed. She forced a shaky smile, phone still pressed to her ear.
“Hello?” came the officer’s voice on the line.