He paused, and I could picture him sitting in the dark of his car, his forehead pressed against the steering wheel.

“The car I’m driving,” he whispered. “The Mercedes she bought me for my birthday. The down payment came from an Apex account.”

“Ethan…”

“And the house,” he continued, his voice rising in panic. “The townhouse in Georgetown we just put an offer on. The earnest money came from the same trust.”

“You didn’t know,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “You couldn’t have known.”

“But I know now,” he said. “Every time I look at her, I’m going to see those dead soldiers, Grace. I’m going to see the families who were paid to stay quiet.”

“Then you have to leave,” I said. “Pack your things and go to a hotel. We can go to the federal prosecutor together.”

“I can’t just run,” he whispered. “She has my passport. She kept it in her safe after we booked the honeymoon.”

“Why does she have your passport, Ethan?”