I extracted three specific manila envelopes and carried them back to the dining room, laying them flat on the mahogany table.

“I anticipated there might be questions,” I said, gesturing to the files.

Officer Daniels approached the table and flipped open the first folder. His eyes scanned the heavy, watermarked parchment. It was the property deed. His thick eyebrows inched upward.

“This document indicates the property belongs solely to an Olivia Caldwell.” “My maiden name,” I clarified. “I bought this home with an inheritance from my grandmother six months before my wedding day. Ethan moved in after the ceremony.”

“And Mr. Bennett was never legally added to the title or the mortgage?” “Never.” Ruiz peered over his partner’s broad shoulder. The room fell into a heavy, contemplative silence.

“Mr. Bennett emphatically referred to this property as ‘our house’ on the recorded line,” Daniels noted, closing the folder. “Colloquially, perhaps,” I countered, my voice steady.