A neighbor invited us to her housewarming. My husband swore he barely knew her. Then I borrowed his phone to find a recipe and noticed one small glowing icon.

I spend my days teaching strangers how to read their own homes. I never thought my house would be the one telling on my husband.

My husband automated his life down to the minute. One scheduled text on the wrong day told me everything he had been hiding for two years.

He deleted the app, cleared his history, covered every track he could think of. He just forgot the one inbox we had always shared.

I woke at 4 a.m. certain of something I had no proof of. By breakfast I had the proof, and I wished I'd never gone looking.

My team works remotely, so I live inside our chat app. One Saturday, half-asleep, I noticed a colleague go active at 4 a.m. Then I noticed who else did.