“We have a warrant to secure files and electronic devices belonging to Nathan Carter,” the first officer said.

He held up a folded piece of paper, his eyes shifting past Eleanor to where Nathan and I stood.

“There has been a formal complaint filed regarding corporate fraud and embezzlement.”

Nathan stepped forward, pulling his shoulders back to match the officer’s gaze.

“I am Nathan Carter,” he said. “This is my home. What is the basis of this warrant?”

The officer looked down at his clipboard, his expression neutral.

“A tip was delivered to the district attorney’s office this afternoon, sir.”

“It included bank records showing irregular transfers to offshore accounts.”

“The accounts are registered under the name of Emily Carter.”

My heart dropped into my stomach, and I felt the cold air from the doorway fill my lungs.

I looked at Eleanor, whose face remained a mask of polite concern.

“Emily Carter?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “I do not have any offshore accounts.”

The officer did not look at me.

“We are also here to escort Mr. Carter to the station for questioning,” he said.