Mark walked into the quiet master bedroom on a warm Tuesday afternoon.
He noticed his ten-year-old daughter Lily standing near the large wooden wardrobe.
Her face looked pale, and her eyes were fixed on the wall behind the furniture.
Mark had spent five years raising Lily as a single father after his first wife passed away.
Two years ago, he married Sarah, hoping to give Lily a complete and loving family again.
Sarah had always been careful and soft-spoken around the house.
She worked in accounting at a local law firm downtown.
Lately, however, Sarah had been acting nervous and jumpy whenever anyone entered the bedroom.
Mark set his car keys down on the tall wooden dresser near the doorway.
Mark: What are you looking at, sweetie?
Lily pointed her small finger directly at the space behind the heavy wardrobe.
Before she could answer her father, footsteps echoed loudly down the hallway.
Sarah burst into the room with a look of pure panic on her face.
She moved fast and placed her hands over Lily's mouth before the girl could speak.
Mark froze in place, shocked by his wife's sudden aggressive reaction.
Mark: Sarah, what on earth are you doing?
Sarah pulled her hands back quickly, her breath coming in fast gasps.
Sarah: She was about to ruin the surprise I was planning for your birthday.
Lily took a huge step away from Sarah and grabbed her father's hand tightly.
Lily: That is not true, Dad!
Lily: She hides papers behind the wardrobe when you leave for work!
Mark looked between his young daughter and his visibly shaking wife.
The bright sunlight filled the room, but the air felt ice cold and heavy.
Sarah: Lily is just looking for attention because you worked late yesterday.
Mark: Is that true, Lily?
Lily shook her head hard, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
Lily: I saw her use a flashlight last night when you were sleeping.
Mark felt a cold knot form tight inside his stomach.
He walked over to the wooden wardrobe and placed his hands on its polished edge.
Sarah: Please, Mark, do not do this right now.
Mark: I just want to see what is back here.
Sarah stepped between Mark and the heavy furniture, her chin held high.
Sarah: Do you not trust your own wife?
Mark stopped and stared at Sarah's pale face.
He had trusted her completely with his home, his heart, and his daughter.
Yet something about her stance told him that she was hiding something important.
Mark: I trust my daughter when she is crying, Sarah.
He gently pushed past his wife and pulled the massive wardrobe away from the wall.