“We have the offshore wire transfers,” Ana replied. “We have the dummy corporations in Delaware. It’s all right here.”

An officer pulled Mark to his feet, guiding him toward the door with a firm grip on his shoulder.

“You’re making a massive mistake,” Mark said to the officer, but his tone was flat.

Yasmin was lifted next, her face pale, all her usual icy composure completely gone.

“Gillian had nothing to do with this,” Yasmin pleaded, her voice cracking as the handcuffs clicked into place. “Please, she’s innocent.”

The officers didn’t answer, leading them both out into the dimly lit hallway.

Gillian followed, sobbing loudly as an officer held her elbow to guide her step.

The sound of their footsteps faded down the back stairs, replaced by the static crackle of police radios downstairs.

Ana walked over to the bed and sat on the edge, placing a warm hand on my shoulder.

“The paramedics are downstairs,” she said softly. “They are going to take you to Sonoma Valley Hospital.”

“I don’t want to go to the hospital,” I whispered, my throat feeling dry and coated in dust.