Photographs of loan forms.

And a chain of messages with a man named Marcus Reed.

One of them read: Wedding Saturday.

Signature Monday.

Once the assets are combined, we move forward. And Marcus had written back: Don’t pressure him.

If the signature looks suspicious we’ll have a real problem. My heart was going in my throat.

And then, as I stood there holding my bruised daughter’s phone, a new message from Rebecca arrived on it — she was texting Emily now — and it said: Cancel this wedding and you’ll regret humiliating me. Daniel read it over my shoulder.

“Save everything,” he said.