“Garrett is operating on panic,” my father said. “He spent years building a house of cards—mixing corporate kickbacks with domestic control, assuming that because you stepped back from your career to handle the fertility treatments, you’d never look at the ledger again. When you looked, you didn’t just find an overcharged vendor; you found the blueprint of his entire strategy.”
“Dana warned me that the timeline is critical,” I said, reaching for my phone on the bedside table. “She wants everything written down while it’s fresh—every date, every evasive answer, every time he used Kendra’s name or a fake travel reimbursement to justify moving funds.”
“Then we write it down,” Dad said firmly. “And tomorrow morning, before the sun is up, we call Dana and we initiate every safeguard available under Texas family law.”
