“Put him on.”
“No.”
“You think this makes you powerful?”
I looked at the blue folder, at the ink still drying on my name. “No. It reminds me I should have stopped protecting you sooner.”
I ended the call.
The room was quiet. Howard took off his glasses and
cleaned them with a white cloth. “He’ll come after you.”
“I know.”
“Legally, he has nothing.”
“I know that too.”
“But angry people don’t always start with the law.”
“Neither do frightened ones.”
He nodded once, then opened another folder. “There’s something else you need to see.”
He slid a packet across the table. At first I thought it was another closing document. Then I saw the first page.
Bank statements. Credit reports. Loan summaries. Kristen’s name appeared again and again, and Trevor’s too. Lines of credit. Private lenders. A
second mortgage application that had been rejected because they didn’t own the property. Luxury car payments. Jewelry financing. A business loan Trevor had personally guaranteed for a startup that looked, on paper, as if it had been assembled from smoke and vanity.
