Five million dollars had been moved from the primary Callahan trust to a private bank in Nassau.

The transfer required two signatures.

One was Victoria’s digital key.

The other was Julian’s.

But there was a pending cancellation notice on the next page of the ledger.

The cancellation had been initiated three days ago.

By Victoria.

She was cutting him off.

She knew the lie was collapsing and she was cleaning house.

I leaned back in the chair, my shoulders aching under the weight of the discoveries.

My personal phone, sitting on the table next to the laptop, began to vibrate.

It was a restricted number.

I hesitated, my hand hovering over the glass screen.

The federal agents had told me not to answer unknown calls while we were in the secure facility.

But the vibration was persistent, buzzing against the metal table.

I swiped the screen and put the phone to my ear.

“Natalie,” a voice whispered.

It was Julian.

His voice was thin, shaking, and devoid of the smooth confidence he usually wore.

“Don’t hang up,” he said quickly.

“Please.”