“We did what was necessary,” Richard said. His tone was casual, as if he were discussing a business transaction.

“You ruined her life,” Ethan spat. “You ruined my life.”

“Your life is in the operating room, saving lives and building our reputation,” Richard said. “Not playing house with a girl from the warehouse district.”

“She was the woman I loved,” Ethan said. “And you framed her.”

I heard the sound of someone pouring a drink. The ice clinked against the glass.

“She was a liability,” Richard said. “She was going to drag you down, and with you, the Harrison name.”

“So you fabricated the bank records?” Ethan asked. “You forged those signatures?”

There was a brief silence on the line.

I squeezed my eyes shut, waiting for the answer that had haunted me for years.

“Yes,” Richard said plainly.

The word felt like a physical blow to my chest.

“We paid a consultant to set up those offshore accounts in her name,” Richard continued. “It was remarkably simple.”

“And the photos?” Ethan’s voice cracked. “The pictures of her with that man?”