The clock ticked loudly in the silence of the house as I paced the living room, my mind racing. The digital numbers on the microwave flashed in the dim light, taunting me with the time slipping away. I needed answers. I needed to understand.

I remembered the old laptop stashed in the hall closet, a relic Jared had insisted was too outdated to be of use. The password was simple, a combination of our wedding date and Eli’s birth year. It was a long shot, but I had to try.