The paper was cold and damp from her coat.

“What is this?” I asked.

“It is the paper trail for the Geneva accounts,” she said, clutching her elbows. “The ones under the name of Valora Holdings.”

I opened the envelope and pulled out the top document.

It was a bank authorization form from a private Swiss bank, dated three months ago.

At the bottom of the page, in clear blue ink, was Lucía’s signature.

Beneath it was the official seal of Horizonte Capital.

“I never signed this, Inés,” she said, her voice rising in panic.

“I swear to you, I have never seen this document in my life.”

I examined the signature closely under the yellow light of the bedside lamp.

The curves of the letters were clean, but the spacing was slightly too rigid.

It was an excellent forgery.

Alvaro had always been meticulous, and he knew Lucía’s handwriting better than anyone.

“This account moved forty million euros last month,” Lucía said, her voice trembling.

“The lawyers in Barcelona told me the tax authorities are already preparing an arrest warrant.”

“For you?” I asked.