For months, I struggled with one question.
How could I have lived beside someone for five years without seeing who he really was?
Clare told me the answer one night when we sat together on my apartment balcony.
“You trusted the person you loved.”
I stared into the darkness.
“Was that stupid?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Trust isn’t stupidity.”
“Then what was it?”
“Being human.”
Those words stayed with me.
Eventually, investigators confirmed that Daniel had died from injuries sustained during the confrontation.
Ethan had hidden the truth instead of seeking help.
His years of cleaning had not been an innocent obsession.
They had been an attempt to erase what happened.
The case went to trial.
I testified about the things I knew.
The routines.
The bathroom.
The strange explanations.
The way he always insisted on cleaning alone.
I didn’t exaggerate anything.
I didn’t try to make him look worse than he was.
