Judge Marlowe read the room like a battlefield.

“Mr. Voss,” she said, “did you submit financial disclosures on behalf of your client stating that Argent Bay Holdings had no connection to the marital estate?”

Voss’s face turned ashen. “Based on information provided by my client.”

“Interesting,” I said.

He glared. “Do not address me.”

I opened my second folder.

Daniel’s eyes dropped to it.

Yes, Daniel. There was another one.

“This is an email chain between Mr. Voss, Daniel, and Elise Carter,” I said. “It details moving clinic revenue through the Carter Foundation until after today’s ruling.”

Voss reacted before he could stop himself. “Privileged communication.”

“Not when used to further fraud,” Judge Marlowe said coldly.

She took the pages.

Voss fell silent.

That silence was sweeter than any argument.

Daniel stood again, shaking with rage. “This court cannot admit stolen documents.”

“They were not stolen,” I said. “They were sent to me.”

“By whom?”

I looked past him.

Mara stepped forward.

Daniel’s face twisted. “You stupid little—”

“Enough,” Judge Marlowe thundered.

The bailiff stepped closer.

Mara’s voice trembled, but she continued. “He told me Mrs. Hale was too poor to fight. He said after the ruling he would move everything offshore permanently. Mr. Voss told me which files to delete.”

Voss closed his eyes.

Elise began to cry—not from guilt, but calculation.

“Daniel made me do it,” she whispered.

Daniel turned on her. “You signed every transfer.”

“And you promised we’d be rich,” she shot back.

There they were.