His eyes widened, and he looked up at his mother.

The paper rattled in Harrison’s trembling hand.

“What is this, Mother?” Harrison asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Patricia did not answer right away.

She smoothed the front of her gray wool coat, her eyes fixed on the sheet of paper.

“It is old business, Harrison,” she said, her tone cold and even. “Put it back in the folder.”

“Old business?” Harrison’s voice rose, cracking at the edge. “This is dated three weeks before my wedding.”

He held the letter closer to his face, his eyes scanning the lines rapidly.

“You wrote to the trustees,” he said. “You told them that my marriage to Claire would secure the necessary capital to prevent the liquidation of Voss Holdings.”

I held my breath in the shadows of the hallway, my shoulder pressed against the cold drywall.

My phone was in my hand, the screen dark but the voice recorder active.

“You knew we were insolvent,” Harrison said, looking at his mother as if seeing her for the first time. “You told me we were just going through a temporary cash-flow transition.”