I pressed my back against the cold plaster wall behind the curtain, holding my breath until my lungs burned.

Through a tiny gap in the velvet, I saw the silhouette of my husband.

He was holding a black leather briefcase in one hand and a heavy flashlight in the other.

His face looked gaunt in the reflected light, his jaw tight with a desperation I had never seen during our marriage.

“The police are asking questions about the signatures on the Cumberland lease,” Gavin whispered, pacing toward the window. “If they run a forensic audit on the holding accounts, we’re done.”

“They won’t find anything unless Daniel helps them,” Arthur said.

My father walked to the desk, his shadow falling over my hiding spot.

“Daniel is a quiet accountant, Gavin. He doesn’t have the stomach for a public scandal.”

“You underestimate him,” Gavin spat. “And you underestimate Emily. She’s not the naive girl you think she is.”

Hearing my name from his mouth made my chest tighten with a familiar, bitter anger.

“She doesn’t have the resources,” Arthur said flatly. “We controlled the cash flow. Evelyn’s estate is locked up.”