“They are playing dirty,” Henderson said, tapping a thick blue binder. “Claire’s attorney, Richard Vance, filed the motion at five-thirty.”

“He is claiming the bank records we pulled from the Collins accounts were obtained through illegal hacking.”

“But those are Whitaker Construction corporate accounts,” my father said.

His voice was steady, but I saw his fingers tighten around the armrest of his chair.

“Exactly,” Ethan agreed, leaning forward. “You are the founder and the sole owner of the holding company.”

“You have legal access to every transaction, regardless of who is managing the daily tasks.”

“Martin Collins used our payroll system to channel the money to his personal shell companies,” Henderson explained.

“Claire signed off on those transfers as a secondary trustee.”

“They are trying to argue that because you posed as a handyman, you abandoned your corporate officer status,” Henderson said.

“It is a desperate move, but if the judge buys it, we lose the audit trail.”

I sat on the edge of the sofa next to Ethan, my hands tucked into my jacket pockets.

“What happens tomorrow if the judge agrees with them?” I asked.