“We have a record of the digital signature you attempted to use on the hospital discharge forms,” she said.

“We also have the log of the IP address used to access Mrs. Hartwell’s personal trust accounts three hours ago,” she added.

Nolan swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple moving up and down.

“Those accounts were frozen for security,” Nolan said, looking toward the door as if planning an escape.

“My operations director, Sloane, she was just—”

“We know exactly what Ms. Barrett was doing,” Sarah interrupted.

She drew another document from her folder.

“At this moment, our team is presenting a petition to a state supreme court judge,” she said.

“We are seeking an emergency injunction to restrict your access to this facility and to preserve all marital assets,” she explained.

Nolan’s phone buzzed in his pocket.

He didn’t answer it, but the screen lit up through the fabric, casting a pale blue glow against his trousers.

“You can’t do this,” Nolan said, though there was no conviction left in his voice. “I am her husband.”

“And you are about to become a very public defendant,” my father said.