Vance looked at me, waiting for my nod before he answered.

I nodded.

“Emails detailing kickback percentages for the construction materials used on the new hangar,” Vance said.

“And a list of names,” he added.

“Whose names?” my father asked.

“Several junior officers who were paid to sign off on incomplete inspections,” Vance said.

“And yours, Mrs. Carter,” Vance added, looking at Claire.

The room went completely still.

You could hear the hum of the air conditioning unit in the wall.

“My name?” Claire whispered.

“Your signature is on the deposit slips for the offshore account in the Caymans,” Vance said.

“The ones where the contractor sent the monthly transfer,” he added.

“I didn’t know,” Claire said, her voice rising to a shriek.

“Andrew told me it was an investment portfolio,” she said.

“He told me it was tax-free because of his overseas deployment status,” Claire added.

She looked at our mother, her eyes begging for help.

“Mom, you have to tell them,” Claire said.

“I don’t know anything about hangar construction,” she said.

My mother looked at the blue folder as if it were a snake coiled on the table.