I Left After I Found My Husband’s Bastard

A hidden folder on her husband’s phone reveals a collection of photos documenting a young girl’s life from birth. Though he claims the child is a resident of the children’s home his wife sponsors, the digital footprints tell a different story. Geotags place the girl in an apartment complex adjacent to his workplace, miles away from the charity. Realizing her husband is using her philanthropy to mask a lie, she decides to uncover the child's true identity before confronting him.

Chapters

Chapter 2

I didn't go to the amusement park.

Saturday morning, Dylan took Lily out.

I opened the laptop and logged into his cloud account, still synced to the iPad at home.

He must have thought he'd changed the password the night before.

But he didn't know the iPad's auto-sync hadn't disconnected yet.

Every photo in the encrypted folder was right there.

I went through them one by one.

Two hundred and thirty-seven.

From a newborn's hospital bracelet to a second birthday cake.

The bracelet read: Mother—Natalie Voss. October 7, 2022. Female. 7 lbs 1 oz.

October 7, 2022.

Lily's birthday was September 29, 2022.

Meaning eight days after I gave birth to Lily, this woman named Natalie Voss had a baby too.

I zoomed in on the bracelet photo. The photographer's shadow fell across the white hospital bed.

The shadow was a man's.

I checked the photo's EXIF data.

Camera: iPhone 14 Pro Max.

Dylan had gotten a new phone in early October 2022.

He'd told me his old one broke.

I kept scrolling.

Photo forty-two. The girl at four months, lying on her stomach on a dark gray play mat. Through the window behind her, half a building logo was visible.

I recognized that logo.

It was the building where Dylan's office was.

Photo seventy-eight. Seven months old, sitting in a high chair eating puree. A man's hand feeding her.

Nothing on the ring finger.

Dylan wore his wedding band at home.

And outside.

Unless he was somewhere he didn't need to wear it.

Photo one-fifty-six. The girl's first birthday. A pink castle cake with one candle, a bouquet of baby's breath beside it.

The bakery name on the box: "Sweet Spot Bakery."

I pulled up Dylan's credit card statement from last October.

October 6: Sweet Spot Bakery, $388.

October 7: Flower shop, $260.

That same day, he'd told me there was a company retreat and he'd be away overnight.

I exported every photo from the iPad to a USB drive.

Then I restored the cloud login to its original state, touched nothing else.

I picked up my phone and texted my best friend Sophie: I need you to investigate someone. Natalie Voss.

Sophie worked at the county records office.

Twenty minutes later, she replied.

Natalie Voss, twenty-six. Address on file: Maple Ridge Apartments, Building 7, Unit 1802.

One property in her name.

Registered in March 2022.

I was seven months pregnant at the time.

Then Sophie sent another message: I can't pull the down payment source, but you could request the purchase agreement from the Real Estate Registration Center. If Dylan handled it through Sterling Realty, his staff ID would be on the contract.

I stared at the message, fingers ice-cold.

He was a real estate agent.

Helping people buy property was his job.

Helping his mistress buy property was just an extension of it.

Continue to next part