My sister, married for 15 years with two kids, was celebrating her 40th birthday. Everything was fine until I asked her husband, “Won’t you give a toast to your wife?”

To everyone’s shock, he threw soda in my face. “None of your business! You’re single because you stick your nose where it doesn’t belong!” he snapped before storming off.

handed her a small USB drive, my heart thumping so loud I was certain everyone in the room could hear it. The sticky soda droplets dripped from my hair down the back of my neck, making me shiver. Though half the family was still trying to process the spectacle—my brother-in-law storming off and me with soda running down my face—I didn’t care about any of that. All I could see was my sister, her expression shifting from confusion to shock.
For one fragile moment, neither of us spoke. Around us, the chatter of guests and children’s giggles became a distant hum. We stood in the middle of the big, bright living room where the birthday party had been in full swing only minutes earlier. Colorful balloons floated overhead, and half-eaten pieces of cake were scattered on paper plates. The entire place still smelled of vanilla frosting and buttercream.

I could feel the weight of my sister’s stare. She took the USB with trembling fingers. “What…what is this?” she whispered.
I swallowed hard. I had dreaded this moment for weeks, ever since I’d stumbled across evidence that something was off about my brother-in-law, Adrian. He and I had never been close—I always found him a bit controlling and aloof—but what I discovered was far worse than I’d ever anticipated.
“Can we talk privately?” I asked. My throat was tight, my words hoarse from anxiety.

Continues..