“We are leaving immediately.”

Audrey gasped, her hand flying to her mouth.

She looked at Garrett, waiting for him to object, to fight for her, to say something.

But Garrett was staring at the floorboards, his shoulders slumped under his tailored tuxedo jacket.

The reality of his mother’s ruin was settling over him.

I pulled my three boys closer to my sides.

“Mommy,” Owen whispered, looking up at me. “Are those bad men?”

“No, sweetie,” I said quietly, keeping my eyes on Vivian. “They are just doing their job.”

Vivian turned her head toward me, her eyes burning with pure hatred.

“You did this,” she hissed, taking a step toward me.

The lead FBI agent stepped between us, his large frame blocking her path.

“Mrs. Bradford, please keep your hands where we can see them,” the agent warned.

The second female agent moved behind Vivian, pulling her hands toward her back.

The metallic click of the handcuffs locking into place sounded like a gunshot in the silent room.

The guests began to whisper furiously, the sound rising like a wave.