“I came to return something,” I said.

I walked into the room, my boots making no sound on the thick rug.

I laid the three printed pages from the glove compartment onto the glass coffee table between them.

Beside the pages, I placed the black USB drive.

Daniel looked down at the table, his face hardening as he recognized the documents.

“Where did you get this?” he asked.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “What matters is that Clara isn’t the only one with a signature on these files.”

Clara leaned forward, her eyes scanning the pages on the table.

She gasped as she saw her own name alongside my uncle’s name and Daniel’s primary holding company.

“You told me Arthur Carter was handled,” Clara said, looking up at Daniel.

“He was,” Daniel said quickly, his eyes darting between Clara and me. “Emily, this is a private business matter. We can discuss this later.”

“There is no later, Daniel,” I said. “The federal prosecutors already have a copy of these files.”

It was a lie, but Daniel did not know that.

His hand tightened around his glass.