“My login,” Isabel wrote.

The speed of her typing suggested her panic.

“You used my credentials, Julian.”

“You gave them to me,” he replied.

“Because I trusted you,” she wrote.

“You said we were buying the townhouse in Brooklyn next month.”

“We are,” Julian lied.

“But I need you to sign this NDA so we can get past this week.”

“You’re asking me to take the fall for eighty thousand dollars in unauthorized transfers,” she wrote.

“It’s not taking the fall if there’s no investigation,” Julian typed.

“The agreement includes a severance package.”

“Fifty thousand dollars?” Isabel replied.

“That won’t even cover my legal retainer if the SEC gets involved.”

I leaned closer to the screen, my breath fogging the corner of the monitor.

Outside, the dark SUV remained parked by the curb, its headlights flicking on.

I gripped the edge of the table, my nails digging into the soft pine.

“I’m not signing it, Julian,” Isabel’s next message read.

“Then you’re on your own when the board calls you in,” he wrote.

“They already called me,” she replied.

“They want me in the HR office tomorrow morning at nine.”