Chapter 2 - The Redlined Ghost
By the time I reached our colonial home in the suburbs of Boston, the silence of the house no longer felt peaceful; it felt like evidence.
I didn't pack a single suitcase. I didn't cry over old photo albums. Instead, I walked straight to Nathan’s locked home office. He thought the heavy mahogany door and a four-digit digital keypad were enough to keep me out. He forgot that I was the one who set up the smart-home security network.
I bypassed the lock in seconds.
Inside, the desk was cluttered with medical journals and awards celebrating Nathan Mercer, MD, Chief of Thoracic Surgery. The world saw a brilliant, self-made savior. My forensic files saw something else: a man who had been falsifying clinical trial data for an offshore pharmaceutical conglomerate to cover up a mounting gambling debt that his mother, Diane, had accumulated at high-stakes tables in Macau.
I opened my laptop and connected a encrypted flash drive. Within minutes, the data stream began transferring to the federal prosecutor's office.
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At 4:15 PM, my phone buzzed. It was an automated text alert from our joint banking app. Declined: Primary Account Overdraft. Merchant: Delta Air Lines Sky Lounge.
I looked at the screen and smiled. The vacation had officially begun.
