“We need this freeze signed before he can move any more money,” Grace said, grabbing her briefcase. “If he gets his hands on cash, he can disappear with her.”

She opened the door before the car had fully stopped.

I lifted Lily’s heavy infant carrier, holding it close to my chest as we stepped out into the cold wind.

The smell of street food and wet concrete filled the air.

We hurried up the wide stone steps, my heels clicking sharply against the granite.

Inside the rotunda, the air was warm and smelled of old floor wax and wet wool.

Grace’s paralegal, a young man named Marcus, was waiting for us near the metal detectors.

He held a thick stack of blue-backed legal documents in his arms.

“I have the judge’s clerk on standby,” Marcus said, walking quickly beside us as we headed toward the elevators. “Judge Alvarez is in chambers.”

“Did you attach the forensic report on the signature?” Grace asked, her boots echoing on the marble floor.

“Yes,” Marcus said. “And the digital logs from the silver drive. The forgery of Vivian’s signature on the trust disclaimer is undeniable.”