*The terms are being drafted now.*

I tapped the attachment, and a scanned document appeared on the screen.

It was a draft of a federal plea agreement, bearing the official seal of the Department of Justice.

At the bottom of the page, the signature line for the witness was already filled out in sharp, elegant handwriting.

*Vivian Prescott.*

Underneath her name was a list of grand jury exhibits she had agreed to provide.

The very first item on the list was the secret offshore ledger.

I stared at the screen, my heart hammering against my ribs as I realized what this meant for the trial.

The door to the recovery room suddenly swung open with a loud click.

A tall man in a dark federal agent’s windbreaker stood in the doorway, holding a badge.

“Avery Prescott?” he asked, his voice echoing in the quiet room.

“Yes,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.

I cleared my throat, trying to find my strength.

“Yes, I am Avery Prescott.”

The man closed the door behind him, letting the heavy latch click into place.