“I already have a name in mind,” I whispered.

“For what it’s worth,” Daniels added gently, “this has escalated far beyond a domestic property dispute. There are no criminal charges to be filed against you regarding the locks or the credit cards.”

As they turned to leave, Daniels paused at the threshold. “If he tries to breach this property, do not engage. Call 911.” “I will.” “I’m deeply sorry your morning began this way.”

I offered a grim, razor-thin smile. “My morning began at 2:07 a.m., Officer. I’m just finally waking up.”

Chapter 3: Following the Ghost

By noon, the pristine dining room table had vanished beneath an avalanche of financial archaeology. Bank statements, encrypted wire confirmations, cross-referenced tax filings, and credit card summaries were stacked like the walls of a paper fortress.

The deeper I dug, the more grotesque the architecture of Ethan’s deception became. This was no mid-life crisis fueled by sudden passion. This was a premeditated, heavily financed exit strategy.