The hum of the compressors was the only sound.

“What do you mean?” I asked, keeping my voice low.

“He called a lawyer, Grace,” Ethan said, his voice trembling. “Not the family lawyer. A federal prosecutor.”

My chest tightened.

“How do you know that?” I asked.

“I was at the house,” Ethan said. “I went to drop off some paperwork for the wedding.”

He leaned against the beige wall, his shoulders sagging.

“I heard him shouting at Cassandra’s mother,” Ethan continued. “He said he was tired of the lies.”

“What lies?”

“He said they used him,” Ethan said. “He said they used his name to sign off on the cargo manifests from the warehouse.”

The cargo manifests were the key to the entire civil rights case.

They proved the military contractors had transported illegal materials through civilian sectors.

“He realized they were going to let Aaron take the fall,” Ethan said.

“Aaron warned me about this,” I said.

“The Colonel told his wife he was going to testify,” Ethan said. “He told her he had already drafted a formal statement.”

“Did he sign it?” I asked.