“The police won’t do a damn thing,” my father said, though he stopped walking.

“They will when they see this,” Julian said, lifting the envelope.

“Your mother gave me this three days before she went into the hospital. She knew you and Brandon were skimming from her trust.”

My father’s face went pale under the yellow glare of the parking lot lights.

“My mother was senile,” my father said. “That document is worthless.”

“It’s the original will, Richard,” Arthur said. “And it was signed and witnessed before her cognitive decline was ever documented.”

The wind gusted, spraying cold water across my face.

My hands were shaking in my pockets, but I forced myself to stand tall.

“Why did you need Brandon’s offshore codes, Julian?” I asked.

Julian looked down at me, his face softening slightly.

“Because that’s where the money is,” Julian said. “The money they stole from your grandmother’s account. And the money they stole in your name.”

“If I get those codes, I can prove to the bank that the transactions were unauthorized.”

My father let out a harsh, dry laugh.