“You did it to hide the money from Claire,” Brooke said.

Her voice was flat, devoid of the warmth she had used to slide into our lives.

“Evelyn made it very clear,” she continued.

“Either I cooperate and turn over the Nassau funds to the corporate receiver, or I go down as a co-conspirator.”

“So you gave it to them?” Victor asked.

“Every dime,” she said.

“The board’s lawyers have been very accommodating to me.”

“They signed a non-prosecution agreement an hour ago.”

“They agreed not to name me in the civil suit.”

Victor let out a low, wounded sound.

“You left me with nothing,” he said.

“I left you with what you deserve,” Brooke said.

The call went dead with a soft beep.

Victor stared at the black screen of the burner phone.

He looked like a man who had survived a crash only to realize he was bleeding out on the pavement.

“She’s lying,” he muttered to himself.

“She wouldn’t do that.”

“She just did,” I said.

My voice was quiet, steady, and entirely devoid of pity.

“She was smarter than you, Victor.”