a container for someone else’s crimes.
She glanced at me.
“Did you know about all of this before today?”
Margo cautioned me not to answer.
Savannah swallowed.
“He said you never looked at the accounts.
He said you did not understand the company.”
I almost laughed.
Grant had built his confidence on that assumption.
During our marriage, I allowed him to handle public operations while I managed the family trust, foundation grants, and long-term investments.
Because I did not demand attention at board dinners, he decided I was ornamental.
He forgot that I had an economics degree, served as trustee for three family entities, and reviewed every annual statement my father’s advisers sent.
My silence had never been ignorance.
The hallway door opened.
Grant returned alone.
Daniel followed several steps behind, looking older than he had twenty minutes earlier.
“We are prepared to continue,” Daniel said.
Margo connected the flash drive to a secured laptop and turned the screen so the court reporter could identify the footage.
The video showed the entrance to Lakeshore Private Bank at 9:14 on a Tuesday morning.
Savannah walked into view wearing oversized sunglasses and carrying a cream leather folder.
She gasped.
The footage continued.
Grant appeared from the passenger side of a black sedan.
He handed Savannah a document, spoke to her for several seconds, and pointed toward the bank entrance.
She went inside alone.
Twenty-seven minutes later, she returned without the folder.
Grant opened the car door for her.
Before they drove away, he kissed her.
No one spoke when the video ended.
Margo turned to Grant.
“You testified that you did not instruct anyone to submit the authorization.
Would you like to correct that answer?”
Grant stared at the blank screen.
Daniel placed one hand over his microphone and whispered to him.
“I may have delivered documents that I believed were valid,” Grant said.
“Did you believe the signature was your wife’s?”
“Yes.”
“Did you see her sign it?”
“No.”
“Did she tell you she signed it?”
“Not directly.”
“Who told you?”
Grant hesitated.
“Savannah.”
Savannah stood.
“That is a lie.”
Grant did not turn around.
“You brought me the papers,” she said.
“You told me Evelyn had approved the transfer but did not want bank staff asking questions because of the divorce.”
“Sit down,” Grant said.
“You said I was only delivering them.”
“Sit down.”
“You forged her name.”
Daniel demanded a break.
Renee Wallace stepped toward Savannah and told her she should obtain independent counsel before saying anything further.
Savannah looked from Renee to Margo, then to me.
Her confidence was gone.
So was the performance.
“I want my own lawyer,” she said.
Grant laughed once, without humor.
“After everything I gave you?”
Savannah’s expression hardened.
“You gave me stolen money.”
That sentence ended the alliance.
The deposition adjourned for the day, but the consequences had already begun.
Parker Holdings’ audit committee placed Grant on administrative leave before he left the building.
His access badge was disabled, his company devices were collected, and the board froze all payments connected to Sable Creative Strategy.
Savannah’s attorney contacted Margo forty-eight hours later.
In exchange for limited consideration in the civil case and her cooperation with the company’s investigation, Savannah agreed to produce her messages, bank records, voice notes, and the documents Grant
