Even more disturbing was the evidence that Beatrice had signed off as a witness on several of the forged documents. When Meredith explained the criminal charges they were now facing, I felt a strange mix of old grief and new, crystalline clarity.
I had loved a ghost, a man who never truly existed outside of a carefully constructed facade. That afternoon, we petitioned the court for an immediate asset freeze and a permanent restraining order against the entire family.
Chloe eventually reached out, asking to meet me in private at a small cafe on the outskirts of town. She looked broken and exhausted, stripped of the arrogance that had defined her for years.
“I didn’t know the full extent of it,” she whispered, her hands shaking as she held a coffee cup. “I knew he was lying to you, but I didn’t know he was committing felonies.”
I watched her, wondering if this was just another performance. “I found this in my mother’s jewelry box,” she said, sliding a silver USB drive across the table. “I think they were planning to sell your data to your biggest competitor before the divorce went through.”