Investigator Vance stepped into the room, followed by three plainclothes agents.

“Miranda Sterling,” Vance said, his voice level and cold.

Miranda did not look at him; her eyes remained fixed on my grandfather.

“This is an absurdity,” she whispered.

Her fingers tightened on the edge of the desk, the knuckles turning white.

“We have the federal warrants, Mrs. Sterling,” Vance said, holding out a document.

“Signed by a federal judge an hour ago.”

“On what grounds?” she demanded, finally looking up, her face pale.

“Conspiracy, wire fraud, and the systematic falsification of estate records,” Vance said.

Nathaniel Vale stepped forward from the shadow of the bookshelves.

He held a leather folder against his chest.

“I have the original ledger, Miranda,” Nathaniel said softly.

“The one Arthur signed before you had him moved to the clinic.”

Miranda’s mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.

Julian took a step toward his mother, his face tight.

“Is it true, Mother?” he asked.

She did not answer him.

“I asked you a question,” Julian said, his voice rising slightly.

“We will discuss this with our attorneys,” Miranda said, her voice shaking.