By Friday evening, they had grown bolder.

Trevor ordered expensive takeout using my saved account. Lorraine invited relatives over and told them I was “finally learning who runs the family.”

I came home at seven.

A process server was waiting across the street.

So were two detectives.

Lorraine opened the door laughing.

“Oh, look who came crawling back.”

Behind her, Trevor lounged at my dining table. Daniel stood beside the fireplace and went pale when he saw the detectives.

I walked inside without raising my voice.

Lorraine pointed toward the kitchen. “Before another tantrum, you owe me for the broken lock.”

“No,” I said. “You owe me forty-eight thousand dollars.”

Trevor’s smile vanished.

One detective stepped forward. “Trevor Hale?”

He stood. “What is this?”

I placed the loan application, store statement, and security images on the table.

Daniel stared at them. “Claire… what am I looking at?”

“Your brother stole my tax documents, used my Social Security number, opened credit in my name, and tried to borrow forty-eight thousand dollars.”

Trevor pointed at me. “She’s lying.”

The detective said, “We’ll discuss that downtown.”

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