He pulled out a small black velvet box.

Inside was the official notary seal I had kept since my early days in corporate consulting.

He set it on the desk, a slow grin spreading across his face.

“He has it,” I said to Jennifer. “He just found the stamp.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jennifer said. “The second I initiated the expedited sale with Elliot’s buyer, the title company locked the file.”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means the title is frozen for any new encumbrances,” Jennifer said. “His loan application is going to flag as a conflict immediately.”

“But did he actually sign my name?” I asked, my voice shaking. “Did he forge my signature?”

“I am waiting on the lender’s compliance officer to email me the submitted documents,” Jennifer said. “They are reviewing the file now.”

“If he forged my signature on a federal loan application, that’s a felony,” I said.

“Yes,” Jennifer said. “It is.”

In the office, Brent picked up his phone and made another call, holding the receiver to his ear while he stamped a piece of paper on the desk.