“Dad,” Ava said.

“Why does that say you were waiting for her to pay off the house?”

Daniel reached for the laptop lid to fold it shut, but I placed my hand flat on top of the casing, keeping the screen upright under the overhead light.

“Leave it open,” I said.

“This email was a private discussion about tax planning for your mother’s estate,” Daniel said, his voice turning sharp and clipped.

“You had no legal right to access my cached files.”