Warren turned the page, and my breath stopped. At the top sat a loan agreement for $6.4 million from a private lender called Marlowe Capital, signed by Preston eleven days before the wedding. The collateral line read: Lorraine Voss, Beachfront Residence, Galveston. Beneath it lay a power of attorney granting Camille full control of my property, carrying my signature and a notary stamp. I had never signed it.

“The lender gave Preston until the end of the honeymoon,” Warren said quietly. “If the deed is not transferred by then, they collect, with interest.” Everett’s pen stopped moving. “That was no demand at the reception, Lorraine,” he said. “That was a deadline.” Then Warren slid over one last photograph, taken at my own front gate. In it, my daughter was shaking hands with a stranger in a gray suit.