Lately, my husband had grown distant—quiet, tired, and withdrawn. He came home late, barely spoke, and avoided our two-year-old daughter,
Mia, except on weekends when I worked. After those weekends, Mia seemed scared and tearful, and worry consumed me.
One Sunday, I hid a small camera in her room before leaving for work, torn by guilt but desperate for answers.
That night, I watched the footage with trembling hands. At first, everything seemed normal—Mia played while he scrolled on his phone. READ MORE BELOW
