She looked at the blue-bound documents in my hand, her eyes narrowing slightly.

“I knew you’d come here,” Brooke said, her voice shaking. “Gavin is unraveling. He’s going to ruin all of us.”

“He already ruined himself,” I said. “And you helped him do it.”

Brooke took a step closer, her leather boots clicking softly on the damp concrete.

“I was stupid, Emily,” she said, her voice rising. “He lied to me. He told me the restaurant was failing and that you wanted to sell.”

I let out a cold, sharp laugh that echoed off the stone walls.

“You slept with my husband and signed off on his forgeries because you thought I wanted to sell?” I asked.

Brooke looked down at the floor, her cheeks flushing red.

“I can fix this,” she whispered, looking back up at me with sudden intensity. “I can help you put him away for good.”

“I don’t need your help,” I said. “Daniel and I have the financial records.”

“The records aren’t enough,” Brooke argued, taking another step forward. “The district attorney needs intent. They need someone who was in the room when he signed the papers.”