The headlights cut through the thick darkness of the Greenwich estate.

I looked back at the stone house, its windows dark except for the office we had just vacated.

“What about Daniel?” I asked, looking at Lena. “Does he know Grant is running?”

Lena opened her tablet, the blue light illuminating her sharp features.

“Daniel is still at his office in Manhattan,” she said. “He thinks Grant is preparing his defense.”

She tapped the screen, opening a series of scanned documents from the offshore files.

“Nora, look at these signature pages,” she said.

I leaned closer to the screen.

The document was the original prenuptial amendment that Grant had used to claim my family’s trust funds.

“The date on the notary stamp says October 2021,” Lena said.

“That was the month before we married,” I said.

“Yes,” Lena said. “But look at the digital certificate embedded in the PDF metadata.”

She zoomed in on a string of alphanumeric characters at the bottom of the page.

“The certificate was issued by Daniel’s firm,” Lena said. “But this specific key wasn’t generated until June of 2023.”