“He doesn’t care about them,” she said.

“He never did.”

“He just needs the money.”

“I have the emails,” she added, her voice barely audible.

“The ones where he discusses sending them to a boarding facility in Switzerland as soon as they are discharged.”

My heart stopped for a second.

The thought of my tiny babies, still hooked to monitors, being shipped away made me physically ill.

“Keep those emails safe, Vanessa,” I said, my voice shaking with a sudden, hot anger.

“You will need them tomorrow.”

She nodded quickly, then turned and walked rapidly toward the elevators.

“She’s terrified,” Margaret noted as we walked out into the cool, damp afternoon air.

“She knows the ship is sinking, and she doesn’t want to drown with him.”

“Will she actually testify?” I asked, pulling my coat tighter around myself.

“If it keeps her out of prison, she will say whatever we need her to say,” Margaret replied.

“But we must be prepared.”

“Grant will not go down without a fight.”

“He still has resources we don’t know about.”

We got into the back of Margaret’s sedan.