The clerk read the charges in a flat, nasal voice.

Conspiracy to commit wire fraud.

Securities fraud.

Money laundering.

Victor did not look back at the gallery where I sat.

He kept his eyes fixed on the mahogany paneling behind the judge’s bench.

“How does the defendant plead?” the judge asked.

“Guilty, Your Honor,” Victor’s attorney said.

The sound of the judge’s gavel was loud in the quiet room.

It was a dull, final thud that seemed to echo off the high plaster ceiling.

Evelyn leaned close to my ear.

“The sentencing is scheduled for October,” she whispered. “He is looking at twelve years.”

“He will serve eight,” I said.

“That is still a lifetime for a man like him,” she said.

We stood up as the judge exited the courtroom.

Nathan turned around and saw me.

He walked through the wooden gate, his face tired but calm.

“The board meeting is set for two o’clock in Seattle,” Nathan said. “We have a flight at noon.”

“I have my suitcase in the car,” I said.

“Are you ready for this, Claire?” he asked.