I frowned.
“Frightened of Daniel?”
“No.”
Vanessa’s answer surprised me.
“She did not know who was responsible. Neither did I.”
That distinction mattered.
Vanessa sat across from me.
“She wanted someone outside the companies to keep copies. She trusted me because I had no financial authority anymore.”
“You were supporting Daniel in court.”
“I was sitting beside him.”
“You never corrected him.”
“I was waiting.”
“For what?”
“For the hearing to reach the point where the documents had to be entered formally.”
My anger stirred.
“You could have told me.”
Vanessa’s expression tightened.
“I tried.”
“When?”
“March seventeenth.”
I searched my memory.
Nothing.
“You told me?”
“You told me I was imagining conspiracies because I still resented Daniel.”
I looked away.
That sounded like something I might have said.
Especially during those months after our divorce, when every concern Vanessa raised felt like criticism.
She touched the key.
