By the end of the day, she was the prime suspect in a massive fraud case.
By the end of the week, her life was over.
The evidence was perfect. Too perfect.
Her husband, Alvin, had looked at her not with support—but suspicion.
Later, she understood why.
He wasn’t confused.
He was involved.
Back in the present, Jasmine’s apartment felt safe, quiet. A place to breathe.
“They’re doing well,” Jasmine said carefully that evening. “Very well.”
Naomi didn’t need details. She already knew.
Still, she asked.
“And him?”
Continued on the next page
