One message stopped me cold: “He suspects something. We need to be careful.” Did Matthew suspect the affair?

Had he confronted Ashley about it? Was his “accident” really just that, or was it something more sinister? My mind refused to accept the implications, but the seed of doubt was firmly planted.

I felt tears stinging my eyes, a blend of sorrow for my son and anger at the betrayal. How could Ashley, who I’d welcomed into our family with open arms, do this? And how could she be so callous as to throw away the blanket, knowing what it might contain?

I knew I couldn’t keep this to myself. I needed to know the truth. But who could I trust with this? The police? A private investigator? The decision weighed heavily on me. This discovery had the potential to unravel everything, but could I even bear to face the truth of what happened to my son?