The copied upward stroke appeared in exactly the place I expected.

Someone had worked carefully enough to make the form look genuine.

And Ryan had known enough to keep it behind a locked red door.

That was the moment I stopped trying to convince myself the cabinet contained harmless paperwork.

I still didn’t know what had happened.

But I knew the documents had to be preserved.

And I knew Emma and I needed help from someone who wouldn’t ask us to accept Ryan’s explanation without checking it.

PART 2 — THE SIGNATURE I DIDN’T WRITE

Marcus Hale arrived at two the following afternoon.

He was a detective who handled investigations involving financial documents and related identity complaints.