A black sedan drove slowly up the muddy track, its tires slipping.

It stopped behind the police cruisers.

The driver’s side door opened.

Aunt Caroline stepped out, holding a black umbrella.

She looked small and frail under the massive oak trees.

Her eyes were red-rimmed, and she looked directly at Marcus.

“Caroline,” Marcus said, stepping toward her. “Tell them. Tell them we had the family’s permission.”

Caroline stopped a few feet away from him, her umbrella shaking.

She didn’t look at me or Blake.

“I can’t lie for you anymore, Marcus,” she said.

Her voice was shaking, but it was clear enough to carry over the wind.

“What are you talking about?” Marcus asked, his voice rising.

“The bank called me,” Caroline said. “They said the security you used for the loan didn’t exist.”

“You signed the papers, Caroline,” Marcus said, his tone turning sharp.

“You signed them because you needed the money as much as I did.”

“I signed what you told me to sign,” she said.

“But I didn’t know you had stolen the deeds from the library.”

She turned to the police officer.