Hannah frowned. “Not that I know of. Why?”

“Because you mentioned he said something about the house and company debt disappearing. That usually means he could be planning to get you to sign documents—maybe collateral papers, transfer forms, or even a settlement that shifts liability onto you. Has he asked you to sign anything recently?”

Hannah’s hand froze above her notebook.

Three weeks earlier, Evan had come home with a folder after dinner. He said it was just boring insurance paperwork related to the house. She had been tired, half-watching a cooking show, and he had pointed at a few sticky notes.

“Just sign here,” he had said casually. “Nothing important.”

And she had signed—because after ten years of marriage, signing papers her husband placed in front of her had become routine.

“Oh my God,” Hannah whispered.

Dana’s voice sharpened. “What is it?”

“I signed something,” Hannah said, her voice unsteady. “I didn’t read it. He told me it was insurance.”

Silence filled the line.

Then Dana spoke, firm and urgent. “Go home. Don’t confront him. Just gather evidence. Do you have access to his office?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Photograph everything—files, computer screens, drawers, even safes if you know the codes. Don’t take anything unless it clearly belongs to you. If you find financial documents, loan records, or emails with banks, take photos and send them to an account he can’t access.”

Hannah scribbled notes quickly. “Okay.”

“And Hannah?”

“Yes?”

“Never underestimate a man who has already convinced himself that betraying you is justified.”