A late-night phone call at 2 AM nearly broke us… but the truth told a very different story.

A woman’s voice burst through the speaker, furious and trembling with accusation.
“Stay away from Max and his family,” she hissed. “Or I’ll tell your husband everything.”

I froze.
For a moment, my mind went completely blank. Then, like a dam bursting, panic and disbelief flooded in at once. I didn’t even know anyone named Max. Before I could form a single word, the line clicked off.

I lay there staring into the dark, pulse racing, the room suddenly feeling too tight, too quiet. Beside me, my husband shifted.

“Who was that?” he asked, groggy, still half in a dream.

I forced my voice steady. “It was for you.”

He blinked, sat up, and took the phone from my hand. I studied his face — unguarded, tired — expecting confusion, shock, something. But when he answered, “Yeah,” in that steady, low voice…

I didn’t move, pretending to drift back to sleep, but every cell in my body was on alert. He spoke quietly, too quietly. Then I heard, “You’ve got the wrong number,” followed by silence. He hung up and turned to me, his expression unreadable.