Because here’s what I’d spent six months building, beyond the evidence.
I’d built a team.
Before that hospital room, I’d already met — quietly, carefully — with a forensic attorney, with a contact at the state agency that handles financial crimes, and with a family law specialist.
I’d already moved my documentation to a secure server.
I’d already rented the apartment, opened accounts in my own name, and prepared to leave the moment they made their move.
I’d been ready for months. I was just waiting for them to do something so brazen, so documented, so witnessed, that it would become the foundation of the case instead of just my word against theirs.
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