Everything inside felt heavier now.
Copies of bank transfers.
Closing documents.
Hotel receipts.
A timeline of payments made from accounts Ryan had sworn were nearly empty.
A photograph of Ashley wearing a cream-colored dress in front of the penthouse windows, her hand resting over her stomach while Ryan stood behind her with the satisfied smile of a man admiring something he believed he owned.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written the date.
Two weeks before Ryan had told me we needed to delay Noah’s speech therapy because money was tight.
I pressed my fingers against my mouth.
Not to cry.from making a sound.
My phone buzzed again.
Attorney Dawson.
I answered quickly.
“Elena,” he said, his voice quiet but steady. “You’re at the airport?”
“Yes. We’re waiting to board.”
“Good. I need you to listen carefully. Don’t respond emotionally. Just listen.”
My stomach tightened.
