I believed my husband had surprised me with one hundred yellow roses while he was out of town—until I counted every flower and immediately contacted the police.

I had spent an entire night wondering whether my husband was a murderer.

In reality, he might have disappeared because he was trying to expose one.

Police traced Amos to an abandoned hunting cabin outside the city.

I was taken to the station and told to remain there while officers searched the property.

Every minute felt endless.

I sat beneath the fluorescent lights holding Daniel’s wedding ring. He had left it on the dresser before leaving, probably because he feared it might identify him if Amos caught him.

Hours later, Detective Kellan entered the room.

His eyes were wet.

“He’s alive.”

I jumped to my feet.

“Daniel?”

“Yes.”

The sound that left me was part sob and part prayer.

Daniel returned home two days later with bruises across his face and a bandage around one wrist.

The moment he stepped through the doorway, I ran into his arms.

“I thought you were dead.”

He held me tightly.

“I’m sorry, Amber.”

He explained that he had discovered my father’s notes while clearing boxes from the attic. The documents suggested Amos had manipulated evidence during the original investigation.

Daniel believed he could quietly gather proof before anyone realised what he was doing.

“You should have told me,” I said.

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because I was afraid he would come after you.”

The roses had proved that fear was justified.