My 5-year-old daughter used to bathe with my husband, and they would stay in the bathroom for over an hour each time

The contents of the Pelican case served as the ironclad foundation for the federal prosecution. Inside were master encryption keys, hard drives containing full video logs of Scott's illicit network, and financial ledgers exposing over a dozen co-conspirators, including corrupt officials and high-ranking members of an international crime syndicate.

Scott’s defense attorneys had no ground left to stand on. The evidence was undeniable, immaculate, and utterly devastating.

Six months later, I sat in the front row of the federal courtroom. Scott sat at the defense table, dressed in an orange jumpsuit, his head bowed, stripped of his arrogance and control.

When the judge delivered the verdict, the room was dead silent.

"Scott Hayes, for the crimes of child exploitation, conspiracy to commit federal espionage, and obstruction of justice, you are sentenced to forty-five years in federal prison without the possibility of parole."

As they led him away in chains, Scott turned his head to look at me one last time. There was no anger left in his eyes—only the cold, hollow realization that he had lost everything. I didn't look away. I stood tall, staring back at him until the double doors swung shut, erasing him from my life forever.

Outside the courthouse, the afternoon sun broke through the clouds, casting long, golden light across the stone steps. Detective Miller stepped up beside me, handing me a small cup of hot coffee.

"It's over, Clara," she said softly. "They're all gone. Every single person associated with that ring has been taken into custody."