“It was in the lining of Nolan’s blue shirt,” I said. “A printed receipt with credentials for an offshore account.”

There was a long silence on the other end of the line.

“Bring it to my office right now,” Sarah said. “The hearing resumes at nine tomorrow morning.”

“I’m on my way,” I said.

I hung up and looked down at Nolan.

He was watching me with his big, solemn eyes.

“Is it going to help, Mom?” he asked.

“Yes, sweetie,” I said, brushing a stray hair from his forehead. “You did a wonderful job.”

Mrs. Latham smiled softly at us from the doorway, her hands folded over her apron.

“Thank you, Mrs. Latham,” I said, rising to my feet.

“Of course, Claire,” she said. “Take care of him.”

We walked out of the school and into the biting autumn wind.

The sky was a dark, bruised purple, and the streetlights were just flickering on.

I buckled Nolan into his seat and drove straight to Sarah’s office.

The next morning, the Knoxville courthouse felt colder than usual.

Rain tapped a steady, relentless rhythm against the high windows of the lobby.