What the Key Revealed

Claudia was a new intern at his company—I had even met her briefly at the last company gathering. The girl looked shy and timid, calling his name with an almost sugary sweetness that made my skin crawl.

I put my phone back as if nothing had happened.

After Richard finished his shower, I casually asked him about Claudia.

He didn't hesitate or show the slightest guilt. Instead, he praised her, saying she had made remarkable progress last month and that he had rewarded her with a necklace.

Half of my doubts eased. Richard did often buy small gifts to reward his employees.

The next morning, as soon as I got to the office, I opened my phone and connected to the backup surveillance at home.

I had installed it six months ago to watch the cat. The camera was hidden behind a row of books on the living room shelf, perfectly facing the sofa and the entryway.

After the cat was sent to my mother's house, the camera had lain unused. Richard had long forgotten it existed.

The night before, while he slept, I had quietly plugged it in and connected it to the internet.

The feed showed a quiet, still house—nothing out of the ordinary.

I watched for three consecutive days and saw nothing suspicious.

Had I been overthinking? Perhaps the necklace really was just a reward for an employee.

Part of me desperately didn't want to believe that the man who had slept beside me for seven years could betray me.

On Friday afternoon, the company suddenly sent me on a business trip to a neighboring city. I left work two hours early to pack.

But when I pushed the door open, Richard was in the bathroom taking a shower.

He usually bathed at night before bed—this was unusual.

"Honey? You're home already?"

Wrapped in a towel, he stepped out. For a moment, a flash of panic crossed his face, quickly masked by his usual calm.

"Unexpected trip. Just came to grab a few clothes."

I said nothing, walking into the bathroom and picking up a bottle of lotion.

The moment I lifted it, I noticed it was significantly lighter.

Shining the light through the bottle, I could see that where there had been more than half a bottle a few days ago, now it was nearly empty.

The unease in my chest tightened again.

I didn't ask anything, only packed my bag in silence.

When I left, Richard was unusually attentive.

"Let me take you to the garage, honey. I'm gonna miss you while you're gone."

He carried my suitcase with a considerate smile, the image of the perfect, devoted husband.

By the time I reached the hotel in the neighboring city, it was already nine o'clock at night. I didn't have time to wash up. Instead, I opened the home surveillance feed again.

The screen loaded. Richard was sitting alone on the sofa, scrolling on his phone, looking bored and listless.

I stared at the screen for over ten minutes, about to turn it off and sleep, when a sound came from the door.

A soft "beep."

The sound of the electronic lock being swiped.

The door opened, and a figure in a short skirt walked in with the ease of someone who knew exactly where she was going.