“The notary who supposedly witnessed this,” I said, turning to Kowalski, laying it out clean and cold the way I’d lay it out for a jury, “died eleven months before its date.

The physician who supposedly found our father incompetent is a retired dermatologist in another state who has never met him.

It’s forged, Marcus.

All of it.

I have the originals and I have already flagged the discrepancies.”

Julian was staring at me like I’d turned into a stranger in front of him.

“Elena.

What are you doing?