“Why, Nolan?” I asked softly.

“Because of the stars,” he said, reaching into the box and pulling out a small, crumpled piece of paper that must have been stuck deep inside the inner lining.

I took the paper from his small hand and unfolded it.

It was not a drawing.

It was a printed receipt with a login credential for an offshore account, dated just three days ago.

The screen of my phone lit up in my pocket, the ringtone echoing in the quiet classroom.

I pulled the phone from my pocket and looked at the glowing screen.

It was Sarah, my attorney.

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

“Sarah?” I said, my voice barely a whisper in the quiet classroom.

“Claire, where are you?” she asked, her voice sharp and urgent.

“I’m at Nolan’s school,” I said, holding the crumpled paper tightly. “We found something.”

“Daniel just signed the affidavit,” Sarah said. “He gave us everything.”

“I have the login,” I said, my heart hammering against my ribs.

“What do you mean?” she asked.