And it wasn’t just the destination that was damning; it was the mechanism of the theft.

“Olivia,” Lauren whispered, her finger tracing the digital ink.

“Look at the IP origination.” I followed her finger. The electronic authorizations for the massive transfers hadn’t come from our shared home network.

They hadn’t come from my office. The IP address pinged straight back to Ethan’s struggling construction firm. “He wasn’t just moving money,” I breathed, the reality strangling me.

“He was digitally forging my authorization.” Lauren slammed her laptop shut, the sound cracking like a gunshot in the quiet house.

“This just went from a messy divorce with unauthorized spending to felony identity theft and wire fraud. He weaponized your digital signature.” I looked across the room at a framed photo on the mantle.