“Only because you stole from it,” I said.

He smiled, a dry, humorless pull of his lips that didn’t reach his eyes.

“We’ve talked about this,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re listening to Daniel Reyes too much.”

“Daniel is a forensic accountant, Graham,” I said. “He found the gaps in the ledger.”

Graham walked over to the bookshelf, running a gloved finger along the dusty spines of my mother’s old novels.

“There are no gaps,” he said. “Only investments that haven’t matured yet.”

“Vance Harrison’s developments are not investments,” I said. “They are a black hole.”

“Vance is a partner,” Graham corrected, turning back to face me. “And he is waiting downstairs in the car.”

My heart did a slow, heavy roll in my chest.

I was alone in this house with both of them, miles from the nearest neighbor.

“Why are you here, Graham?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

“We need the physical ledgers from five years ago,” he said, his tone growing impatient.

“They aren’t here,” I said.

“Your mother kept everything, Claire,” he said. “She was paranoid, especially toward the end.”