I called the forensic accountant directly.

Her name was Diane Marsh, and she answered on the first ring as though she had been expecting me.

"The charge from April," I said.

"The medical clinic in the NoDa neighborhood.

You circled it."

"I did," Diane said.

"Tell me what you found."

A brief pause.

"The charge was billed to a private women's health clinic.

It appeared on the joint credit card that Grant controlled.

The amount and the billing code are consistent with a termination procedure." Her voice was professionally neutral.

"I flagged it because it was charged to the marital account rather than a personal card, and because the timing — given your own pregnancy — seemed relevant to the overall pattern of the case."

I didn't say anything for a moment.

"Tessa," I said.

"That would be the reasonable inference," Diane said.

"Though I can only speak to the financial record, not the medical one."

I thanked her and ended the call.

I sat with it for a few minutes.

I had thought I was past being surprised by Grant.

I had spent eleven months building a case precisely because I had accepted, piece by piece, what kind of man he was.

But there was a difference between knowing a thing in the abstract and having it confirmed in a billing code on a spreadsheet.

He had charged it to our joint account.

Either he hadn't thought about it, or he hadn't cared.

I suspected the latter.

I called Natalie.

"I saw it," she said before I could speak.

"I was going to bring it up tomorrow.

I didn't want to give you too many things at once tonight."

"Can we use it?"

"As evidence of the financial pattern, yes.

As evidence of the nature of the relationship and the extent to which marital funds were used to support it, yes." A pause.

"It also speaks to the timeline.

If Tessa became pregnant in early spring and the procedure occurred in April, that means Grant was managing that situation at the same time he was attending your prenatal appointments and telling you everything was fine."

I had attended six prenatal appointments in the spring.

Grant had come to four of them.

He had held my hand during the twenty-week scan and said the baby looked like Owen.

"Okay," I said.

"Add it to the file."

"Already done." Natalie's voice was careful.

"Mara.

How are you?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't have to be fine."

"I know." I looked at the window.

The Charlotte skyline was a soft orange in the early evening.

"I'll be fine when it's over.

Right now I just need to keep moving."

"Then here's what's moving," she said.

"Daniel's attorney, Curtis Webb, filed a formal claim this afternoon challenging the validity of the property transfer based on the fraudulent appraisal.

He has requested the original appraisal document from Grant's records.

If Grant cannot produce it, or if the document shows signs of alteration, the transfer is void.

Daniel's half of the property reverts to him."

"And Grant's sale to Hargrove Capital?"

"Falls apart entirely.

You cannot sell a property you only half own without the co-owner's consent." A beat.

"Curtis Webb has already made clear that Daniel will not be consenting."

I exhaled slowly.

"Grant's attorney called again," Natalie added.

"He's now offering to include the Alderman Road property in a fifty-fifty split of the marital estate in exchange for dropping the fraud allegation and lifting the freeze."

"He's offering me half of something Daniel may own entirely," I said.

"Yes," Natalie said.

"Which tells you how desperate he is."

"Don't accept anything," I said.

"I won't." A pause.

"There's one more thing.

The custody evaluation motion — the judge assigned it to a Dr.

Sandra Okafor.

She's thorough and she does not like it when custody is used as a negotiating tool.

I've appeared before her twice.

She will see through this quickly." Another pause, quieter.

"But she will still need to interview both parents.

Grant's attorney will coach him.

He will be calm and reasonable and he will paint you as unstable."

"Let him," I said.

"I have the recording."

"You have the recording," Natalie agreed.

"And I'll make sure Dr.

Okafor hears every word of it."

I ended the call and went to check on the children.

Owen was still asleep.

Lily had rolled onto her back with her arms spread wide, the way she always slept, as though she were falling and had decided to enjoy it.

I stood in the doorway for a moment.

Then my phone buzzed one more time.

A text from Grant.

Not through his attorney.

Directly from him.

*I know about the call with my mother.

I know about Daniel.

You think you're being smart but you have no idea who you're dealing with.

This isn't over.*

I read it once.

I screenshotted it.

I sent it to Natalie.

Then I typed back two words.

*I know.*