“The charitable foundation listed in the prospectus does not exist,” Lila said.

“It was created solely to bypass environmental restrictions on the Harbor Point cliffs.”

“You bitch!” Grant screamed from the hallway.

A loud kick hit the center of the door.

The decorative molding around the frame cracked.

Diane didn’t flinch. She kept her eyes on the lock.

“He planned to convert the entire senior living section into luxury private residences within two years,” Lila said.

“I have the internal emails and the dual-ledger accounts right here.”

She held up the black USB drive, presenting it to the camera lens.

“Vivian!” Grant shouted, his voice cracking with rage.

“You think you’re clever? You won’t even be able to get into the house tonight.”

I felt a cold chill run down my spine, but I kept my face expressionless.

“Your access codes are already gone,” Grant yelled through the door.

“I’m calling the bank the second this door opens, Vivian.”

“Every joint account, every line of credit, frozen.”

“You’ll be sleeping in your car by midnight.”

Diane caught my eye.

She gave me a quick, almost imperceptible nod.