Another agent stepped forward with a pair of handcuffs.

Margaret did not struggle, but her hands trembled slightly as her wrists were bound.

She glared at me, her eyes filled with a cold, desperate hatred.

“You think you’ve won, Colonel?” Margaret whispered, her voice low and venomous. “You have destroyed your daughter’s life. I will spend every dime I have to ensure you both rot in prison for malicious prosecution.”

“You don’t have any dimes left, Mrs. Prescott,” Agent Carter said. “The Department of Justice froze all Prescott Group assets twenty minutes ago.”

Margaret’s jaw tightened.

For the first time since I had met her, she looked fragile.

The agents began to lead them out of the room.

Ethan was sobbing now, his head bowed, his expensive loafers scraping against the wet floor.

Margaret walked with her head high, refusing to look at the hospital staff gathering in the hallway.

I turned back to Emily.

She was watching them go, her fingers tightening around mine.

The grip was weak, but it was there.

For the first time in months, the terror in her eyes was replaced by something else.