it from an old tax document I had prepared years earlier for our mother.
Daniel’s voice hardened. “Did you authorize any of this?”
“No.”
There was more.
Vanessa had inflated revenue by almost forty percent and used my professional credentials to make her projections appear audited.
Worse, one attachment described Daniel as my “financially dependent spouse” with no significant assets.
Apparently, she had decided marrying a quiet single father made me easier to manipulate, not harder.
I laughed once.
Daniel didn’t.
“We can stop the application now.”
“No,” I said. “
