The document was a transfer request. Daniel had asked the bank to move the master guarantee authority on the corporate credit facility out of the trust’s control and into his own name alone. If it went through, he would no longer need my signature for anything. He could borrow against the fleet, drain the reserves, and restructure the entire company without ever telling me. The frozen grocery card had not been about discipline. It had been a distraction, something small and humiliating to keep me looking the wrong way while the real move slipped through quietly in the background.

Mr. Holloway watched me read it twice. “It hasn’t been approved,” he said. “It’s still pending. These transfers require a second authorization from the controlling trustee, which is you.” He paused. “But there’s a signature here already, Claire. Right below Daniel’s.” I leaned toward the monitor. The name written under my husband’s was mine. Except I had never signed anything.