“That’s your handwriting, Elena,” Serena said from the doorway.

“We all know your hand.

You can’t sit there and pretend you didn’t know what was going on.”

“I wasn’t in this room on October fourteenth,” I said.

“I was working an eight-hour shift at the medical office, and my time card proves it.”

“You didn’t just steal from Dad, Julian,” I said.

“You forged my name on a three-hundred-fifty-thousand-dollar loan.”

Julian didn’t answer.