“If you go to the prosecutor, Helen,” Evelyn said.

“I will make sure these papers are delivered to the state attorney general’s office within the hour.”

“We can both spend our remaining years in a courtroom.”

“But I have nothing left to lose.”

“Can you say the same?”

The silence stretched between them, heavy and suffocating despite the open air.

Suddenly, a pair of bright headlights flashed at the top of the gravel ramp leading down to the dock.

A dark SUV roared down the hill, stopping inches behind Helen’s town car.

The driver’s side door flung open.

My father, Arthur, stepped out into the rain, his coat unbuttoned and his face flushed.

He looked at Helen, then at Evelyn, and finally at me.

“Helen, stop,” Arthur shouted over the wind as he ran toward us.

“It’s too late,” he said, breathing heavily as he reached the wooden deck.

“What do you mean?” Helen asked, turning to him.

Arthur held up his phone, its screen glowing brightly in the dark.

“Daniel,” Arthur said. “He is not at his office.”

“Where is he?” I asked, my heart stopping.