I opened the live camera feed and immediately stopped breathing.
A yellow moving truck was parked outside the brick house in Ohio that I had purchased only eleven days earlier.
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Brainberries
The driver’s door opened.
Mark stepped out.
My ex-husband.
We had been married for twenty-seven years before our divorce was finalized in January.
Five months later, he married Vanessa, the woman who had become his new wife.
I had never told Mark where I bought my new home.
That house represented something much bigger than a real estate purchase.
I had paid $327,500 for it, and only my name appeared on the deed.
For the first time in nearly three decades, I had made a major decision entirely on my own.
Then Mark opened the moving truck.
A television came out first.
Then boxes.
Vanessa carried a tall brass lamp toward my front door.
