Vanessa walked past Gabriel, giving him a wide berth, and stopped near the kitchen island.

She set the flash drive on the marble counter.

“Ethan is going to prison,” she said, looking at her wet hands. “The lawyers say the evidence against him is ironclad.”

“And you?” I asked.

“They are looking at my signature on the wire transfers,” she said.

“Because you signed them,” I said.

“He told me they were tax documents,” she cried, her voice cracking. “He told me it was standard practice.”

“You knew we were being audited, Vanessa,” I said. “You knew I was being blamed.”

She looked down, refusing to meet my eyes.

“I was scared,” she said. “If the foundation fell apart, we would lose everything.”

Gabriel walked over and picked up the flash drive.

He slotted it into his laptop, his fingers moving quickly over the keyboard.

A folder opened on the screen, showing three audio files.

“Is this the original recording?” Gabriel asked.

“Yes,” Vanessa said. “I took it off Dad’s study computer a year ago.”

“Why did you keep it?” I asked.