I didn’t sleep that night.

I sat on the porch, watching the tide pull away from the shore, leaving the wet sand dark and exposed.

By noon the next day, Robert called me back.

“We have it,” he said simply. “The ledger was exactly where she said it would be.”

Two weeks later, we were back in the family court room.

The air in the courtroom was stale, smelling of old paper and pine cleaner.

Daniel sat at the defense table, his suit looking slightly too large for him now.

His face was drawn, dark circles shadowing his eyes.

Patricia sat in the gallery behind him, her back stiff as a board, her fingers gripping her pearl necklace.

The judge, a stern woman named Judge Vance, adjusted her glasses and looked down at the thick binder on her desk.

The binder contained the forensic analysis of the black ledger.

“Mr. Mercer,” Judge Vance said, her voice echoing in the quiet room. “The court has reviewed the supplementary financial disclosures.”

Daniel did not look up from the table.