“On the surface, they look like unrelated expenses. A lump sum wired to a high-end downtown apartment complex. A hefty down payment to a luxury auto dealership. A recurring monthly debit labeled vaguely as ‘Consulting Retainer.'”

“What’s the connective tissue?” I asked, rubbing my temples. Lauren tapped the routing numbers with her pen. “The destination. Different shell labels, but they all funnel into an account ending in 4492.”

My stomach plummeted—a visceral, sickening drop. “Ethan opened a shadow account.” “A shadow account he heavily subsidized with your liquidity,” she corrected.

While we waited for the bank to expedite the destination account details, Lauren leaned back, her hawk-like eyes fixed on me. “Talk to me about the accomplice. Rachel.”

Saying her name felt like chewing broken glass. “We met as freshmen in college. She was… she was the vault. I trusted her with my darkest secrets.” “Did she suffer financial instability?”

“Not until about fourteen months ago. Her marketing firm downsized. She lost her job, panicked about losing her condo. Ethan stepped in to help her manage her budget.”