That night, I unlocked my husband’s iPad. Scrolling through his calendar, my heart dropped into my stomach:“Weekend with Other Kids.”The room spun. My hands shook as I scrolled further. Photos. Receipts. Messages. Proof that my daughter hadn’t been imagining anything. She had overheard the truth.When he came home, I confronted him. No screaming, no tears at first—just the raw question: “Who are they?”
