For Eight Months I Thought I’d Found Love After My Divorce — Then a Woman I’d Never Met Recognized His Photo and Said “When I Knew Him, He Went by a Different Name,” and I Understood Every Breakfast Had Been Reconnaissance

Gregory’s palm came down on the table hard enough to make the papers jump.

“Stop playing lawyer!

You’ve complained about that apartment for a year!” “Wanting a new home,” I said, “does not give you the right to steal my old one.” I turned to Raymond, who was sweating.

“Explain why the same agent who tried to take Colette’s house is running this one.

And why a woman tried to pull my daughter out of school yesterday with a forged note.” Stephanie’s composure cracked at last.

“Don’t bring the child into this.” “My daughter,” I said, “is already in this.