For over a decade, my father had deposited part of his service pay into a private trust for my future. Logan had forged a power of attorney to siphon every dollar into speculative crypto and his failing business.

On top of that, he’d used my clean credit to secure millions in commercial loans across multiple banks.

“He didn’t just steal your money,” Samuel said, working through the statements. “He built his entire company on documents bearing your stolen name.”

That afternoon we obtained the security footage from the entry gate of our former complex. A camera had clearly captured Logan grabbing my clothes at the front door while Brenda helped him force me back inside — on the exact date that matched my three days in the basement.

Hannah arrived at the firm unannounced, carrying a heavy fireproof box.

“I kept this locked in my storage unit, just like you asked me to,” she said, setting it down.