Too normal.

“Clean,” Brandon muttered. “Almost too clean.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means if something’s off, it won’t be in the obvious place.”

He clicked through timestamps.

Then he paused.

“Here.”

I leaned closer.

There was a note added after the procedure.

Not medical.

Administrative.

“Patient consent packet delivered to spouse per prior instruction.”

My pulse spiked.

“Prior instruction?” I repeated.

Brandon nodded slowly.

“That’s not standard language.”

“So she asked for it?”

“Or he did,” Brandon said. “But either way… this was arranged before you walked into that room.”

I sat back, my mind racing.

Nicole had insisted on being there.

Nicole had reassured me.

Nicole had smiled.

All while expecting something I wasn’t supposed to see.

—

That night, I went home.

And for the first time in twenty-one years…

I watched my wife like a stranger.

She moved around the kitchen, making dinner, asking if I was in pain, checking if I needed medication.

Perfect.

Too perfect.

“Did the doctor say everything went well?” she asked casually.

I looked at her.

“Yeah,” I said. “Everything went exactly as planned.”

She smiled.

And for a split second…

Something in that smile didn’t reach her eyes.

—

Around 10:30 PM, she said she was going to shower.

The moment the bathroom door closed, I moved.

Fast. Quiet.

Her purse was on the chair.

I hesitated for exactly one second.

Then opened it.

Wallet. Keys. Lipstick……………

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