“Shut up, Richard.” Her voice cracked. Her eyes darted to the stairs, then back to the folder. “This is ridiculous. It’s legal asset management. Plenty of families put properties in their children’s names for tax optimization.”

“It isn’t tax optimization when the entities you created were used to absorb the toxic debt from Julian’s first three failed ventures.”

I flipped to the next section: a spreadsheet, rows highlighted in red.

“Julian didn’t just have a tax issue with his current restaurant. For six years, you’ve been funneling cash into accounts under my Social Security number, letting the businesses default, and leaving the wreckage tied to my legal identity.”

Julian straightened up off the doorframe, the casual arrogance draining out of his face. “Maya, you don’t understand how corporate structures work. It’s all shielded.”

“It was shielded from me, because you intercepted the mail and used a P.O. box in another county,” I said, looking right at my brother. “It isn’t shielded from the IRS.