But at 10:00 PM, after Kenji falls asleep to the hum of a baseball replay? I become someone else.

Specifically, they have luxury hoarding.

It was none of those things. It was better. I don't scrub floors for strangers. I don't sell lotions to my friends. I don't do anything illegal (mostly).

I found a listing online. "Discretionary data entry. Evening hours. High pay." It sounded fake. It sounded dangerous. It sounded... exciting.

My name is Manami. To my husband, Kenji, I am a "full-time housewife." To my mother-in-law, I am a "bit of a disappointment." To the neighbors, I am "the quiet one at the end of the street."

I needed cash. Not a loan from my mother, not a credit card he would see. My cash.

My job? I enter their homes while they are on "business trips." I don't steal. I edit .

One client, a famous chef, cannot throw away a single receipt from 1995. Another, an executive's wife, buys the same designer handbag in six shades of beige and hides them in the water heater closet.