I thought my marriage was solid until I saw strange charges on my wife Natalie’s bank statement—baby supplies, pediatric visits, kindergarten fees. We didn’t have kids. Suspicious, I followed her and saw her with a man and a girl in a wheelchair. They were affectionate. My world shattered.

As a lawyer specializing in infidelity cases, I knew the signs, but this felt personal. When I confronted Natalie, she insisted the man was her brother and the girl her niece. She stormed out. I searched our home and found a hidden stash—fake passports, cash, a gun, and a newspaper clipping about a bank robbery. Who had I married?

I found Natalie at a hotel and demanded the truth. She confessed—before we met, she’d helped rob a bank to pay for her niece’s life-saving surgery. I promised to help her legally. We returned home, and she made me tea. I blacked out. When I woke up, there was blood, a knife, and she was gone.

Cops were outside, alerted by a neighbor. I ran, used a tracking app I’d installed on her phone, and found it dumped in the grass. Desperate, I went to her brother’s house, held him at gunpoint, and demanded she come or I’d hurt them. She arrived, and the truth spilled out.

Police stormed in. Natalie and I were arrested. I told them everything. She admitted the robbery, and we shared one last glance before they took her away. I apologized to her brother, knowing I had crossed a line.

Now, I just hope Luke, my best legal friend, can help us both find justice.