“She had a trust fund,” he said, gesturing wildly at me with the crumpled paper.

“The girl’s tuition is already paid through the Vance estate.”

Samantha did not look surprised.

She merely adjusted the strap of her leather handbag and stepped closer to the mahogany desk.

“Then we change the strategy,” Samantha said calmly, her voice smooth and devoid of emotion.

She looked at me, her blue eyes narrowed to thin, calculating slits.

“Claire is clearly not well,” Samantha murmured, her tone dripping with mock sympathy.

“The stress of the pending divorce must be causing a severe mental breakdown.”

I felt a cold chill run down my spine at the sheer ease with which she lied.

“What are you talking about, Samantha?” I asked.

Samantha ignored me, turning her focus entirely to Preston.

“If the public believes Claire is suffering from severe paranoia,” Samantha explained, “her freezing the accounts looks like an act of instability.”

“A judge will grant an emergency injunction to restore your access to the funds within forty-eight hours.”

Mia gripped my arm tighter, her small hand shaking.