“Emily, what does it say?” Daniel asked.

I showed him the screen.

He rubbed his temples, his breath coming in short, sharp puffs in the cold air.

Evelyn walked over, her cane clicking softly against the polished floorboards of the stage.

Her face was pale, the lines around her mouth deeper than usual.

“Is it true?” I asked her, my voice trembling. “About the joint account?”

Evelyn closed her eyes for a brief second and nodded.

“Gavin was thorough,” she said. “When we restructured the family assets to shield them, he insisted on a dual-signature clause for the Cumberland mortgage. I thought it was to protect you from him making sudden moves.”

“But he turned it into a trap,” I said.

“Yes,” Evelyn whispered. “If he is incarcerated, the assets in that specific account are locked by the bank’s compliance division. Neither of you can touch them without a notary present, and a federal holding facility won’t facilitate that for a private dispute.”

Helen stepped up behind us, her hands shaking as she clutched her pearl necklace.

“We can pay it another way, can’t we?” Helen asked. “Surely we have other reserves.”