“I want the custody agreement,” I said.

She flinched.

“I don’t have that,” she said quickly.

“Nolan has it.”

“Nolan has a printed copy with my forged signature on it,” I corrected her.

“I want the original digital files.”

“I want the Word document, the PDF templates, and the email exchange where Nolan told you what terms to write.”

“I need the metadata that proves the document was created and signed last week, while I was in labor, and not three years ago like the date on the paper claims.”

Sloane rubbed her forehead with her hand, her manicured nails digging into her temple.

“If I give you that, Nolan will know it was me,” she said.

“Nolan will be too busy dealing with his own ruin to care,” I replied.

“If you give me the files, my father will instruct his legal team to leave your name out of the initial filing.”

“You will still have to return the money you took, of course.”

“But you won’t be facing twenty years for grand larceny and wire fraud.”

“You can walk away with a plea for misdemeanor negligence.”