I came home from the funeral to tell my parents and sister that my husband had left me $8.5m and 6 Manhattan lofts. When I walked into the house, I overheard my parents talking. What they were saying… made my blood run cold.

I sit in that small office and cry for the first time since Nathan’s funeral. I cry because my husband knew me better than I knew myself and he loved me enough to plan for the worst.

James pours me water from a picture on his desk and lets me collect myself. Then he opens a second folder.

“There’s something else,” he says. “Nathan suspected your father had financial problems. Gerald asked Nathan for money four separate times during your marriage. Nathan documented every request.”

He shows me the notes. Four emails from Gerald, each more desperate than the last. 20,000 for home repairs, 15,000 for Khloe’s car. Nathan declined every time and kept the receipts.

“That’s not proof of anything,” I say.

“No, but if Gerald is the treasurer of a nonprofit, his tax filings are public record.”

James picks up the phone and dials.

“Maggie, I have someone I’d like you to meet.”

Margaret Kesler. Maggie is a forensic accountant. She works fraud cases for nonprofits across the state. She’s 45, direct, no nonsense. James puts her on speaker.