I didn’t sleep.Not because I feared guilt.Because I feared interpretation.There’s a difference.By 6:15 a.m., the legal team had already begun compiling archives. Emails. Internal memos. Calendar invites. Strategy calls. Anything dated three months before our marriage.Three months.Such a small window.And yet, entire narratives can be constructed inside days.Adrian sat across from me at the dining table, laptop open, reviewing correspondence personally before release.“I won’t let them blindside us,” he said quietly.“You can’t control how they frame it.”“No,” he agreed. “But I can control what we know first.”That mattered.If there was anything ambiguous—anything that could be twisted—we needed to see it before Julian did.Because I no longer doubted it was him driving the shareholder demand.He didn’t need to sign his name.He just needed someone curious enough to pull the thread.⸻At 8:40 a.m., the first flagged message appeared.Subject: Image Stabilization Strategy.Date
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