“You planned this,” Scott said, his voice trembling. “You set me up.”

“You set yourself up when you stole from a dying woman,” I said.

I gathered my purse and stood up.

Vance, Scott’s lawyer, did not stand.

Instead, Vance began packing his files into his briefcase, his movements slow and deliberate.

“We need to appeal this, Richard,” Scott said, turning to his lawyer. “Tell them we’re appealing.”

Vance did not look up from his briefcase.

“With what retainer, Scott?” Vance asked quietly.

“What do you mean?” Scott asked.

“Your account with my firm is thirty days past due,” Vance said, clicking his briefcase shut. “I cannot file an appeal without a deposit.”

Kayla stood up, her face pale.

“Scott, you told me the lawyer was paid,” she said.

“I’ll pay him,” Scott said, his voice cracking. “I’ll transfer the money from the joint account.”

“There is no money in the joint account,” I said, looking at him. “I froze it yesterday pending our divorce settlement.”

Scott looked at me as if I were a stranger.