It was the document my investigator had spent three weeks compiling.

It showed the second mortgage on our house, the outstanding loans, and the three separate lines of credit Ethan had quietly opened in his father’s name.

“Ethan does not have any money to give you, Lila,” I had said.

“He is leveraged to his limit.”

“He is using your department’s budget to cover his personal deficits.”

Lila had looked at the papers, her brow furrowing as she read the numbers.

“That can’t be right,” she said.

“He promised me he bought the condominium in the city for us.”

“The deed is under a holding company,” I told her.

“The holding company is currently defaulting on its interest payments.”

“If the firm’s compliance team looks into your department, your name is on the authorization forms for those transfers.”

Lila’s face had gone pale under the harsh fluorescent lights of the diner.

She had looked up at me, her eyes wide with a sudden, sharp realization.

“He set me up,” she whispered.

“If the auditors find the missing funds, it looks like I stole them.”