It was Caleb, his collar turned up against the damp wind.

I opened the passenger door before Diane could park completely.

The gravel crunched beneath my shoes.

“Vivian,” Caleb said as I approached.

He looked tired, his eyes shadowed by the brim of his baseball cap.

“Is Grant with you?” I asked, looking at the empty docks behind him.

“Grant is at the estate,” Caleb said. “With Lila.”

The words felt like a physical blow, cold and sudden.

“He locked me out of the bank portal,” I said.

Caleb nodded slowly.

“He did more than that, Vivian,” he said.

He pulled a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket and handed it to me.

I unfolded it under the yellow streetlamp.

It was a transfer ledger from our primary joint account at Pacific Merchants Bank.

The balance read zero.

“He moved four million dollars this afternoon,” Caleb said.

“That is marital property,” Diane said, stepping up beside me. “He can’t legally do that.”

“He used a corporate loophole,” Caleb replied. “He transferred it as an emergency capital call for the Maribel project.”