Part 6

The title office occupied the twelfth floor of a quiet building downtown. Monday morning rain streaked the windows. Camille arrived first, carrying the same folder she had brought to my shower. Noah entered ten minutes later in a navy suit, smiling with the relief of a man who believed the crisis had returned to his control.

Through the glass wall of a conference room, I watched him embrace Camille. She kept her arms at her sides.

“Elena signed everything,” he told her. “The scene on Friday was emotional, but it is finished.”

Dean asked Noah to confirm that all parties understood the transaction. Noah said yes. He stated that I had voluntarily transferred the house as part of a confidential separation agreement and that Camille’s investment would be secured by the renovated property.

Camille asked why her name did not appear on the deed.

For one second, Noah’s expression hardened. Then he told her the omission was temporary and necessary for tax reasons. He slid a page toward her and pointed to a signature tab.

Priya entered before Camille picked up the pen. Mara and I followed. Noah stood, knocking his chair backward, but no one moved toward him.

Dean closed the folder. “The transaction is frozen,” he said. “Our legal department is reviewing suspected identity fraud.”

Noah looked at me as if I had betrayed him. “You came here in your condition?”

The words were designed to make concern sound like authority. I sat beside Priya and answered calmly. “My condition is not your permission.”

Priya presented the clinic record showing I could not have attended the remote notarization. Dean displayed a still image from the preserved video. The person on camera wore a dark wig and large glasses, but the face did not match mine. Lorraine later recognized her as an assistant who had worked briefly for Noah’s company.

Noah claimed Victor had arranged everything. Dean asked why the login confirmation had been sent to Noah’s personal email. Noah said he did not remember. Camille asked why North Vale Design used the same mailing address as his old office. Again, he did not remember.

Then Priya placed Noah’s handwritten letter on the table and read one sentence aloud: *The closing will give me enough liquidity to restore the funds before anyone suffers a real loss.*

The room became still.

Noah stopped pretending the documents were legitimate. He shifted to pleading. He said a consulting deal had failed and he had borrowed money temporarily. He planned to repay every account. The affair, he insisted, was separate.

Camille looked at him with more sadness than anger. “You proposed to me because you needed an investor who would not ask why your wife’s house was being sold.”

Noah denied it, but his denial no longer mattered. Dean ended the meeting. The company retained the file and notified its insurer. Priya had already prepared an emergency civil petition to prevent any transfer of the house or movement of the disputed funds.

As we left, Camille returned the brass key to me. This time I accepted it.

Noah remained in the conference room, surrounded not by two competing women, but by the paperwork he had expected them never to read together.