Camille sat at their kitchen table, watching Alexander pour coffee into two mugs. His movements were the same as always - careful, precise, loving. He added cream to hers without asking, remembering exactly how she liked it. The small gesture that used to make her heart warm now felt like another piece of evidence in his performance.

She'd barely slept. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw those photographs of Victoria. The security plans. Richard Pierce's journal ...