“Send me everything you have,” I said. “Compile the bank wire receipts, the metadata on the forged signatures, and the Delaware registration.”

“I’m emailing the encrypted file link now,” Elena said. “Don’t open it on any network connected to Voss.”

“I’m on my private secure line,” I said.

My computer monitor chimed.

An email from Elena’s private address appeared in my inbox.

I clicked the link and entered the password she gave me.

The documents loaded slowly, page after page of financial ledgers and bank scans.

I scrolled down to the signature page of the twelve-million-dollar loan.

There was my name, *Claire Vance*, written in a neat, cursive script that looked almost exactly like my own.

But when I zoomed in, I saw the slight pixelation around the edges of the ink lines.

It was a digital stamp, lifted from another document.

Below it was Arthur Pendelton’s looping signature, certifying that he had witnessed me sign the document in person.

“I see it,” I whispered. “Pendelton signed off on a meeting that never happened.”