“He used my grandmother’s social security number, too,” I said, my voice quiet but clear in the tense hallway.

Rylan glared at me, a look of pure venom in his eyes.

“Shut up, Calla,” he hissed.

“Don’t speak to her,” Officer Briggs said.

He grabbed Rylan’s arm and turned him around.

“Hey! Get your hands off me!” Rylan shouted, struggling against the officer’s grip.

“Put your hands behind your back, Mr. Vance,” Briggs said.

The sound of the metal handcuffs clicking together was the coldest sound I had ever heard.

Rylan winced as the steel ratcheted tight around his wrists.

“Calla, tell them,” Rylan pleaded, his arrogance suddenly dissolving into panic. “Tell them we talked about the loan. Tell them you agreed to it.”

“I never agreed to let you borrow against this house,” I said.

“You forged my name on three different documents, Rylan.”

“I found the copies in your desk drawer.”

Solene began to cry, a high, desperate sound that did not match her usual cold demeanor.

“This is his house too!” she wailed. “He is your husband! You can’t do this to him!”