Julian reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a slim, waterproof document sleeve.

“What is that?” Bennett demanded, squinting through the rain.

“The forensic signature analysis on the 2022 transfer deeds,” Julian said.

“The ones Celeste signed as a witness,” Julian added.

Bennett’s eyes narrowed.

“It’s a fake,” Bennett said.

“The court won’t see it that way,” Julian said.

“We have an emergency injunction hearing scheduled for nine o’clock tomorrow morning,” Julian said.

“Judge Harrison is presiding,” I added, looking straight at my husband.

Bennett laughed, but the sound was hollow, swallowed by the wind.

“Harrison is a friend of my father’s,” Bennett said.

“He was,” Julian corrected.

“Until we sent his clerk the preliminary report on the forged signatures,” Julian said.

A gust of wind whipped Marta’s hair across her face.

She let out a muffled cry, her eyes pleading with me.

“Let Marta go, Bennett,” I said.

“She has nothing to do with this,” I added.

“She’s a thief,” Bennett spat.

“She’s been feeding you information for months,” he said.

“She was protecting what you stole,” I said.