It had a registered agent and no website, no employees on any filing, and an address that was a mail forwarding service in Henderson.

I sat with that for a night.

The next morning I did something I had never done in eleven years of marriage, which was to open his personal email, which had been logged into the iPad in the kitchen since 2019 and which I had walked past four thousand times.

It took eleven minutes.

They had started in March 2023 — four months after our third failed transfer.

There was nothing lurid in it.