The silence in the room returned, heavier than before.

Daniel grabbed Grant by the elbow and guided him back into his leather chair.

Grant sank into it, his shoulders hunched, looking smaller than I had ever seen him.

“The guidelines for federal bank fraud, wire fraud, and conspiracy put you at twenty-five to thirty years,” Lena said, sliding a fresh document across the table.

The paper slid smoothly over the polished mahogany, stopping right in front of Grant’s trembling hands.

“This is the expedited plea agreement,” Lena continued.

Grant did not look at the paper. He stared at the brass pen in his jacket pocket.

“What are the terms?” Daniel asked, pulling the document toward himself to read the fine print.

“A full guilty plea to all counts,” Lena said. “An allocution under oath in open court, detailing every transaction, every offshore shell company, and every accomplice.”

“Including Margaret?” Grant’s voice was barely a whisper.

“Especially Margaret,” I said.

Grant looked up at me, his eyes rimmed with red, his lips parted.

“She is your mother, Grant,” I said. “But she did not hesitate to sacrifice you when the regulators first started asking questions.”