The purchase date matched several transfers from our joint account labeled “consulting fees.”

Consulting fees.

Madison was a “consultant.”

Exhibit C showed invoices from Hale Strategy Group—Madison’s firm—billing Ethan’s company for “market analysis.” Exhibit D showed deposits hitting Madison’s account for nearly identical amounts, followed by transfers to Redwood Private.

The money wasn’t just hidden.

It was being laundered through fake consulting work.

And then there was the prenuptial agreement.

Exhibit F: a clause requiring complete and truthful disclosure of all assets and liabilities at the time it was signed.

“Dana,” I asked during one meeting, “what happens if he didn’t disclose everything?”

Her eyes sharpened.

“Then the agreement can be challenged. Possibly thrown out.”

“And the money he’s hiding now?”

“If he moved marital funds during the marriage, those are still marital assets. Judges can sanction him, award you a larger share, order him to pay your legal fees—and possibly refer the matter to other agencies.”

When I mailed my letter to the court, I didn’t think of it as revenge.

It was information.