Every dollar Adrian had stolen was a dollar that belonged to our daughter’s future.

“I have my personal savings,” I said, looking at Grace. “The trust from my grandmother. It is independent of the Whitmore estate.”

“Vivian, no,” Grace said, turning her head to me. “We don’t buy evidence.”

“We aren’t buying evidence,” I said. “We are buying time. If Adrian gets that money out of Zurich, we will never see a dime of it.”

Grace stared at me for a long moment, then looked at the black drive.

She knew I was right.

“One hundred and fifty thousand,” Grace said, turning back to Celeste. “That is our maximum. And you sign an affidavit right now stating you had no knowledge of the forgery until today.”

Celeste hesitated, her fingers twitching on the table.

“One hundred and fifty,” Celeste agreed quietly. “But I want the wire initiated before I leave this block.”

“Deal,” Grace said.

She pulled a fresh document from her briefcase and began writing in her neat, precise handwriting.

Celeste watched the pen move across the paper like a lifeline.