“The Department of Justice has already flagged my personal bank accounts.”

My mother turned on him, her eyes wild.

“Then we fight it,” she said.

“We buy the best lawyers in the District.”

“But we cannot let Grace walk out of this house with those papers.”

She grabbed a heavy brass poker from the hearth stand.

Aaron stepped forward, his boots heavy on the rug.

He placed his large, scarred hand over the brass handle, stopping her.

“Let it go, Eleanor,” Aaron said quietly.

“You have had fifteen years of luxury bought with blood.”

“It is time to pay the bill.”

My mother glared up at him, her lips pulled back in a snarl.

“You are a traitor to this family,” she spat.

“I was a soldier,” Aaron said.

“I should have acted like one back then.”

He turned to me and nodded toward the hallway.

“Get the files to the car, Grace,” he said.

I clutched the heavy envelope to my ribs.

The weight of the paper felt cold against my skin.

I looked at Ethan one last time.