"I don't know yet."
The answer reassured him more than certainty would have. Amanda continued, "And neither do you."
Roger nodded even though she couldn't see him. "We verify first."
"Yes."
She asked him to preserve the original downloads and avoid altering file names or metadata. Roger copied everything to his external drive, then another copy to secure storage. When the call ended, the room was silent again.
Outside the window, afternoon traffic moved along Polaris Parkway. Roger looked at the authorization. Twenty-four hours earlier, his problem had been a man walking out of his bedroom.
Now another man mattered less. The question was no longer only who Kimberly had allowed into their marriage. It was what had been done inside Roger's financial life while he wasn't looking. His phone lit up.
A text from Kimberly.
"Are you coming home tonight?"
Roger looked at it. Then at the April 16 authorization. He didn't reply.
Five minutes later, Amanda called again. Her voice was sharper this time. "I've reviewed what you sent."
Roger waited.
"There are several possibilities, and we're not choosing one without evidence."
"Understood."
"But from now on, I want you to be very careful about what you reveal."
Roger looked down at the signature bearing his name. Amanda finished with six words.
"Do not confront her about this yet."
Roger did not sleep much that night, either. By 6:40 the next morning, he was sitting at the small desk in room 417 with black coffee cooling beside his laptop. The April 16 authorization remained open on the screen.
He had looked at it enough. Now he needed distance from it. Amanda had given him a list of practical steps. Nothing dramatic.
Nothing designed to punish Kimberly. Protect access. Preserve records. Document balances.
Do not interfere with disputed marital property. Roger followed the list exactly. He changed the password to his personal email account first, then his cloud storage, then the online account connected to his employer's benefits.
Two-factor authentication went on everywhere it was available. For years, Kimberly had known some of Roger's passwords simply because marriage had made convenience seem harmless. That assumption was over. Roger did not lock Kimberly out of accounts that belonged to both of them.
He did not transfer their savings. He did not touch the disputed HELOC. Instead, following Amanda's instructions, he arranged for future payroll deposits to go into an individual account. Then he downloaded screenshots showing current balances in every shared account.
Date, time, amount. Roger saved each one. At 8:12, he requested copies of his credit reports. The first looked normal.
Mortgage, two credit cards, auto loan already paid off. The second showed something he did not recognize. Roger leaned closer. A revolving credit account opened 13 months earlier.
The balance was modest compared with the HELOC, but the account itself bothered him. He checked the last four digits. Roger reached for his notebook. He flipped back three pages.
There it was. The unidentified card that had received payments from their joint checking account, ending in 4419. He placed the notebook beside the laptop.
For several seconds, he simply compared the numbers. Same account. Roger printed the relevant page at the hotel business center. Then he called Amanda.
She listened. "Don't contact the creditor yet unless we coordinate it. I want to understand exactly how it was opened and whose obligation it is."
"Understood."
"Anything else?"
"Not yet."
"Keep it that way if you can."
Roger almost laughed. Nothing about the previous 48 hours suggested life intended to cooperate. At 9:30, he drove to work.
His supervisor, Mark Ellison, knew only that Roger's Pittsburgh assignment had been postponed. Roger did not tell him about Kimberly. There was no reason. He spent the morning reviewing fire separation plans for a warehouse expansion in Grove City.
Numbers helped. Measurements helped. Steel thickness, wall ratings, exit distances, things that could be verified. At 12:18, Kimberly texted.
"I need some clothes from the dry cleaner. Are you coming home at all?"
Roger stared at the message.
Home.
The word had become strangely technical. He replied, "I'll come by at 6:00 to get additional belongings."
Her response arrived almost immediately.
"We need to talk."
Roger typed, "We can talk briefly."
He sent it before he could reconsider. At 5:57 p.m., the Ford Explorer turned onto Ashborne Drive. Roger parked in his own driveway.
Kimberly's Lexus was already there. He sat behind the wheel for several seconds. The upstairs curtains were closed. Everything looked ordinary.
A neighbor was trimming shrubs two houses down. A UPS truck rolled past. Roger entered with his key. Kimberly was waiting in the kitchen.
No wine this time. She wore jeans and a gray sweater. Roger placed an empty duffel bag near the stairs.
"You actually came?" she said.
"I said I would."
Kimberly folded her arms. "Are you staying?"
"No."
Her jaw tightened. "Roger, this is insane."