The afternoon sun beat down on the high-rise buildings, reflecting off the glass.

“I have a small savings account at a credit union,” I said. “But there is barely three hundred dollars in it.”

“Keep that cash for emergencies,” Marisol said, turning back to face me. “Do not touch it unless you absolutely have to.”

“Derek knew exactly what he was doing,” I said. “He wanted to lock me out of my own life.”

“He did,” Marisol agreed. “But he also left a paper trail.”

She pointed to the bottom of the forged document.

There was a notary stamp near my forged signature.

The name on the stamp was Clara Higgins.

“Do you know a Clara Higgins?” Marisol asked.

“No,” I said. “I have never heard that name.”

“I will look her up,” Marisol said. “She is likely a friend of Stephanie’s, or someone Derek paid off.”

“Stephanie is a notary too,” I recalled suddenly. “But she probably knew using her own stamp would look too suspicious.”

“Exactly,” Marisol said. “She found a colleague to do it, or used a fake name.”