Two days before my wedding, I believed I was about to marry the kindest man I had ever known. Nathan remembered every birthday, checked on my parents without being asked, and always seemed ready to help anyone in need. We had spent months planning what we both called the happiest day of our lives. The rehearsal dinner was scheduled, guests were arriving from out of town, and every detail appeared to be falling perfectly into place. While visiting his childhood home to collect a few family keepsakes for the ceremony, I wandered upstairs looking for an old photo album his mother had mentioned. Instead, I found a dusty pink backpack tucked behind several forgotten storage boxes in a bedroom closet.