I tapped the laptop screen.

“But the security logs show you entering my home workshop at night, moving my ledger, and resetting my computer clock to make me think I had missed deadlines.”

The court reporter’s fingers clattered frantically on her machine.

Nolan stared at the metadata sheets, his breathing shallow.

“You were overwhelmed,” he whispered, trying to hold his ground. “I had to manage the estate. You couldn’t handle the pressure of the family name.”

“Did you forge the digital signatures on the trust documents, Mr. Pierce?” Sarah asked.

Nolan looked at his lawyer, whose face had gone completely pale.

His lawyer shook his head slowly, a silent warning to stop speaking.

“Sloane Barrett has already signed an affidavit,” Sarah added quietly. “She is currently cooperating with the state attorney’s office.”

The mention of Sloane’s betrayal seemed to hit Nolan like a physical blow.

He slumped back in his chair, his shoulders dropping for the first time since I had met him.

“Yes,” Nolan said, his voice barely audible.

“Yes, what?” Sarah asked, pressing him.