My Sil Kept “Joking” About My Miscarriage, Until My Husband Heard Her.

Telling him I was paranoid, unstable, jealous. Setting up the narrative so that when she made her accusations, he’d believe her.

I said quietly, “Get out.” Kevin asked, “What?”

He stepped forward, but I held up my hand. I said, “Get out.” “Don’t come back until you can look at me without wondering if I’m a murderer.”

I saw doubt flicker in his eyes. Saw him wanting to believe me, but it wasn’t enough.

The doubt was still there, poisoning everything between us. He left without another word.

Marina closed the door and locked it. Then wrapped her arms around me while I finally let myself fall apart completely.

Two days later, Evelyn called with an update. Detective Jason had requested a voluntary interview with me.

Which she’d declined. She said, “I told him we need to see all the evidence first.” “I’m not letting you walk into an interrogation without knowing exactly what they have.”

She’d received some of the requested documents. My phone records showed I’d been at home and at doctor’s appointments.

During the time the witness claimed to have seen me at Rachel’s house. My credit card statements showed no purchases of herbs or tea.

Evelyn said, “The phone records help, but they’re not conclusive.” “Because you could have driven there without using your phone.”

“We need the security camera footage from your neighborhood to show your car never left.” She’d also received the screenshots of the forum posts.

She said, “I’m sending these to a digital forensics expert I work with, Jason Hansen.” “He’s going to examine your devices and see if he can trace where these posts actually came from.”

The mention of examining my devices made me nervous. Even though I had nothing to hide.

What if they found something I didn’t know was there? What if Rachel had planted more evidence somehow?

Evelyn must have heard the fear in my silence. She said, “Jason is on our side.” “He’s looking for proof that your account was compromised, not trying to build a case against you.”

“Trust the process.” She paused.

She said, “There’s something else.” “Detective Jason mentioned that Rachel’s witness is a neighbor who saw a pregnant woman at Rachel’s door.”

“The neighbor identified you from a photo Rachel showed her.” “But she admits she didn’t see the woman’s face clearly.”

I said, “That’s the weakest part of their case.” “A pregnant woman, not necessarily me, just someone who was pregnant.”

I said, “Rachel could have hired someone.” “Someone who looked pregnant or who actually was pregnant.”

“She could have paid them to deliver the tea and then told her neighbor it was me.” Evelyn made a note.

She said, “That’s a good theory.” “We need to find out who this witness is and exactly what she saw versus what Rachel told her she saw.”

After the call ended, I sat on Marina’s couch feeling slightly less hopeless than before. The case against me had holes, big ones.

I just needed to prove it before the police decided to arrest me anyway. Jason Hansen came to Marina’s apartment three days after I hired Evelyn.

He was younger than I expected, maybe 30 with messy hair and glasses. He set up his equipment on the dining room table.

Connecting my laptop and phone to various cables and devices. He explained, “I’m going to image your drives.”

“That means I make a complete copy of everything on your devices.” “So I can analyze them without changing anything.”

“It preserves the evidence in case we need it for court.” Court. The word made my hands shake.

Jason worked for hours, typing commands I didn’t understand. Pulling up screens full of code.

Marina brought him coffee and snacks while I paced the small apartment. Too anxious to sit still.

Finally, Jason sat back and pulled off his glasses to clean them. He said, “Okay, here’s what I found.”

My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. He said, “There’s no trace of those forum posts on your laptop or phone.”

“No browser history showing you visited those pages.” “No cookies or cached data, nothing.”

I felt dizzy with relief. I asked, “So I didn’t make them?”

Jason shook his head. He said, “You didn’t make them from these devices.” “But the posts exist, so someone made them from somewhere.”

“The screenshots Rachel provided show your username and email.” “Which means someone either hacked your account or knew your login credentials.”

He pulled up a screen on his laptop. He said, “The good news is that forum posts like these leave digital footprints.”

“The forum keeps logs of IP addresses.” “The unique identifiers that show what computer was used to access the site.”

“I’ve requested those logs from the forum administrator.” Evelyn had warned me this might take time.

That forum administrators didn’t always respond quickly to legal requests. But Jason smiled.

He said, “I know the guy who runs this particular forum.” “We went to college together.”

“He’s sending me the access logs tonight.” That night I barely slept again.

Every hour I checked my phone to see if Jason had sent an update. Finally, at 2:00 in the morning, an email came through.

I opened it with shaking hands. The IP address traced to a public library computer.

Three blocks from Rachel’s house. Jason had the exact dates and times the forum posts were created.

And he’d already contacted the library for their security camera footage. Jason explained over the phone the next morning, “Libraries keep pretty good security footage because of theft issues.”

“If someone used that computer on those specific dates and times, we’ll be able to see who it was.” Two days later, the footage arrived.

Jason called me to Evelyn’s office to watch it together. My hands were shaking as we gathered around Evelyn’s laptop.

Jason pulled up the first video file, dated three weeks ago. The timestamp showed 2:00 in the afternoon.

The camera angle showed a row of public computers near the library’s front windows. A woman sat down at computer number seven.

The one that matched the IP address. Jason zoomed in on her face.

It was Rachel. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

There she was, heavily pregnant, typing on the library computer. Jason fast-forwarded through the footage.

Showing her spending 40 minutes at that computer before leaving. He pulled up the second video file, dated two weeks ago.

Same computer, same woman. Rachel again.

This time spending an hour typing. The third file showed her there five days before her baby died.

I whispered, “She framed me.”

“She literally sat at a public library computer and made fake forum posts on my account.” “To make it look like I was researching how to kill her baby.”