I turned to the signature page.

My hand was steady as I signed my name on the line.

“It’s done,” I said, sliding the paper back to him.

“I will have my runner file this at the courthouse within the hour,” Vance said.

“What is the next step?” I asked.

“We serve Ethan in his holding cell,” Vance said.

A small, grim smile touched his lips.

“He will receive the divorce papers along with his breakfast,” he said.

“And Linda?” I asked.

“She has no legal standing to claim anything,” Vance said. “Her name is not on any of the deeds or accounts.”

“She will likely try to contact you,” he warned. “Do not answer.”

“I have already blocked her number,” I said.

“Good,” Vance said. “Keep it that way.”

He closed the file jacket and stood up.

“Your mother’s seven million dollar estate is fully protected,” he said. “The trust was structured perfectly.”

“Ethan cannot touch a single dollar of it,” he said.

I looked out the window at the rain falling on the city streets below.

The relief was a warm weight in my chest.