My hand instinctively went to my temple, where the dressing was still fresh and tight against my skin.

“Patricia was agitated,” Michael said, as if describing a minor weather event. “She is a woman of delicate standing, and a criminal charge would destroy her foundation.”

“And what about my foundation?” I asked.

“You have your hospital, Elizabeth,” he said. “You have your clinical trials and your quiet life. You do not need the family asset pool.”

“But Daniel does,” I said.

“Daniel owes four hundred thousand dollars to men who do not use the courts to settle their accounts,” Michael said.

The number hung in the air, cold and heavy.

I looked at the gray wool of Michael’s coat, noting the lack of dust, the precision of the stitching.

“He came to me for fifty thousand,” I said. “He lied to me.”

“Of course he lied to you,” Michael said, a faint smile touching his lips. “He was terrified. But the debt is real, and the men holding it have already visited his apartment.”

“You knew about this,” I said. “Before tonight.”