“Your interests,” I repeated. “You mean the money you stole.”

He smiled, looking pleased that I had finally brought it up.

“It wasn’t stolen,” he said. “It was reallocated.”

“You liquidated my father’s estate while I was in the hospital,” I said.

I stepped closer to *The Ledger*, positioning myself so he would have to face the hidden microphone to look at me.

“You took the shipping warrants,” I said. “You used them to back the shell companies in Delaware.”

Daniel sighed, as if explaining a simple concept to a child.

“Your father’s company was failing, Emily,” he said.

“It wasn’t failing until you blocked the credit lines,” I said.

“It was an acquisition,” he said. “A standard business practice.”

“You lied to the board,” I said. “You told them the signatures on the transfer documents were mine.”

Daniel stood directly in front of the sculpture now.

He rested both hands on the charred oak, leaning in.

“They were yours,” he said. “You signed them.”

“I was sedated, Daniel,” I said. “You brought those papers to my bedside the night after the surgery.”

He shrugged.