Lydia.I didn’t confront him. I built a case.With help from his ex-partner and a lawyer, I gathered evidence: forged docs, photos, receipts, a recorded video call where Lydia laughed about using my wedding photo in investor pitches.On our anniversary, I handed Conrad a flash drive. “You have 72 hours to return everything,”

I told him. “Or it all goes to court.”He lost. Lydia vanished. And then fate stepped in.The apartment sale fell through due to a title issue. Legally, it was still mine.I stood in the doorway of my childhood home and whispered to the walls, “I got it back, Dad.”Karma? Maybe.Closure? Absolutely.