She let them lead her out of the room, her head hanging down, her tears smudging her mascara.

I looked back at Preston.

He was standing very still, his hands in his pockets.

“You think you’re smart, Claire,” he said, his voice dropping to a low hiss.

“But you’ve ruined the family name.”

“What will Mia think when she sees her father in handcuffs on the evening news?”

“Mia already knows what you are, Preston,” I said.

“She was the one who helped me find the files on your secondary hard drive.”

Preston flinched.

For the first time, I saw real fear in his eyes.

“She wouldn’t do that,” he muttered. “She’s my daughter.”

“She is my daughter,” I said. “And she carries my father’s legacy.”

“The legacy you tried to destroy for your own greed.”

Agent Miller stepped forward and produced another set of handcuffs.

“Preston Hayes,” Miller said. “You are under arrest for conspiracy, wire fraud, and grand larceny.”

“Keep your hands where I can see them.”

Preston looked at the exit to the tarmac, where the corporate jet was idling.