Arthur: Answer me, Evelyn! What was I to you?
Evelyn: You were my husband... I loved you, Arthur!
Arthur: You loved my bank account! You loved the mansion, the country club, and the status!
Chloe: She never cared about you, Dad. Remember how she treated Mom's old paintings?
Evelyn: Those dusty old paintings were taking up space in the gallery!
Chloe: She threw my mother's portraits into the basement storage unit behind the water heaters!
Arthur: You did what?
Evelyn: It was an accident! The decorator needed wall space for the new art pieces I bought!
Arthur: My late wife painted those portraits herself before she passed away!
Evelyn: Arthur, please, you're dwelling on minor things while we're facing a crisis!
Arthur: Minor things? My wife's memory is a minor thing to you?
Arthur unzipped the leather briefcase on the bed, pulling out a thick red folder stuffed with bank receipts and legal affidavits.
Arthur: This is a copy of the wire transfer you made to a bank account in Grand Cayman six days ago.
Chloe: Grand Cayman? Dad, she was preparing to run away!
Evelyn: That's not true! That's a tax shelter account recommended by our financial advisor!
Arthur: Our financial advisor resigned two months ago, Evelyn. He sent me a personal letter warning me about your unauthorized calls to his office.
Evelyn: He's a liar! He was trying to cover up his own accounting errors!
Arthur: Is everyone a liar except you, Evelyn?
Chloe: Look at the signature on page four, Dad. That's not even close to Grandpa's real handwriting.
Arthur held the page up to the afternoon light streaming through the master bedroom window.
Arthur: My father had a distinct tremor in his right hand after his stroke. This signature is smooth and fluid.
Evelyn: He had good days and bad days!
Arthur: He was in an intensive care unit on the date listed on this document, Evelyn. He couldn't even hold a pen!
Chloe: She brought a notary into his hospital room while Dad was at the office!
Evelyn: The notary verified his identity legally!
Chloe: The notary was your personal friend from college! I checked her license status—it was revoked two years ago!
Evelyn's breath hitched in her throat as her eyes darted toward the bedroom doorway.
Arthur: Don't even think about running, Evelyn. My security team is standing at the bottom of the stairs.
Evelyn: Security team? In my own home?
Arthur: This hasn't been your home since the moment you put a pen to those fraudulent papers.
Chloe: Dad, call the detective now. He said to call the moment we found the original document under the sofa.
Evelyn: Detective? What detective?!
Arthur: Detective Vance from the financial crimes unit. He's been waiting in his car down the street for my signal.
Evelyn sank back against the vanity table, knocking over a glass bottle of expensive perfume that shattered loudly against the hardwood floor.
Evelyn: Arthur... you can't put me in prison! Think about the scandal! Think about your company's stock price!
Arthur: My company will survive the truth, Evelyn. But I will not live another day under the same roof as a thief.