Because he had no idea.

He thought he was writing to a defeated woman, a loose end, a problem tidying itself away.

He was, in fact, writing a taunt to a forensic accountant who was, at that very moment, sitting on a falsified medical record, a dashcam confession, and a working knowledge of every offshore account he owned. Disappear gracefully. I sent nothing back.

Not a word.

Silence, I had learned, unnerves a certain kind of man far more than any threat, because a threat he can answer, and silence he can only imagine.