We unpacked the folders and laptops, setting up a temporary command center. Natalie spread the documents out in a neat, almost ritualistic fashion. “This is your arsenal,” she said, tapping each folder. “Everything he thought he could move without you knowing is here. Now you’re untouchable.”

I reached for the deeds, letting my fingers brush over the official papers. The reality of ownership, the permanence of legal record, felt like armor. Ethan had assumed compliance. He had assumed exhaustion would keep me passive. He had underestimated patience, observation, and preparation.

I turned to Natalie. “Friday isn’t the end,” I said softly. “It was supposed to be the final move. But for him, it’s just a corner in the game. He’ll keep trying. And I need to be ready for that. Every next corner, every next plan.”

Natalie nodded. “Then we stay two steps ahead. Every call, every document, every transaction. If he tries anything, you’ll know before he even believes he’s succeeded.”