“You didn’t come here for a divorce, did you.” “I came here for a divorce yesterday,” I said.

“Today I came here for everything.”

What followed was the least dramatic and most satisfying work of my life.

Rosalind taught me, over the next weeks, that a forensic accounting is not the thunderbolt of television — it is patience made into a weapon.

We built the case the way you’d build a wall, one verified brick at a time.

She subpoenaed what could be subpoenaed and requested what could be requested, and she taught me to read the trail the way she read it: not as numbers but as behavior, a man’s choices written in the one language he couldn’t charm.