“I knew it,” she said, sitting back down at the table. “I remember him coming to the back patio three years ago with a heavy leather briefcase.”

“He said Grant is hiding the money in accounts under Daniel’s name to keep his personal net worth looking smaller for the child support hearings,” I said.

“And to hide his true assets from Judge Harlan,” my mother added.

I looked at the stack of papers on my kitchen table.

There were Nolan’s drawings, Mrs. Latham’s notes, and my own thick legal logbook.

“This is enough to start a fire,” I said.

“Then take it to your lawyer first thing in the morning,” my mother said.

I didn’t sleep that night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the fear in Nolan’s face when he looked at his father.

Morning came with a gray, heavy fog rolling off the Tennessee River.

The air in Knoxville was cold and damp, clinging to my coat as I walked to my car.

I held the cardboard box tightly against my chest.