The balance at the bottom of the most recent statement read nine hundred and eighty thousand dollars.

“This is it,” Arthur said, his eyes scanning the documents. “This is the money he skimmed from your father’s estate before the business collapsed.”

“He kept it for himself while he told me we were broke,” I said, my voice cold.

“With this evidence, the court will order an immediate release of these funds to satisfy your claim,” Arthur said.

“And the house?” I asked.

“The sale is scheduled to close tomorrow morning,” Arthur said. “The buyer has already signed the papers.”

We heard the front door open, followed by the heavy sound of footsteps in the hallway.

Daniel walked into the study, his tie loosened and his jacket damp from the rain.

He stopped when he saw us sitting at his desk.

“What are you doing here?” Daniel demanded, his face reddening. “You have no right to be in my house.”

“Actually, I do,” I said, pointing to the laptop screen. “And it isn’t your house anymore.”

Daniel’s eyes moved from my face to the laptop, and then to the open panel behind the grandfather clock.