accustomed to controlling conversations couldn’t hear what others said.
At 10:17, my phone rang.
Evelyn took the call first.
It was June.
After several minutes, Evelyn faced me.
“Callie has documents.”
I straightened.
“What kind?”
“Messages about the loan. Screenshots. A business proposal.”
Evelyn paused.
“And something indicating Dorian may have tried to use your identity to guarantee a debt.”
A chill ran down my back.
“How?”
“He allegedly submitted a copy of your driver’s license and financial information.”
My coffee suddenly tasted bitter.
“Where would he get those?”
