I never thought I’d come home early and find my husband packing our life into suitcases—alongside my jewelry, our savings, and even our passports. Mike and I had been married 16 years, raising two wonderful kids in a quiet neighborhood. Our elderly neighbor, Mrs. Johnson, was practically family. She was the one who called me that day, panicked,

telling me Mike had brought a blonde woman—his assistant, Lana—into our apartment while he was supposedly at work.I rushed home. What I found shattered everything: drawers open,