“Please. We can talk about this.”

Ethan stepped in front of her, his eyes cold as he glared at me.

“You are destroying this family, Claire,” Ethan said.

“You are putting your own father in prison.”

“He put himself there when he stole from the charity, Ethan,” I said.

“And you helped him.”

“We have a deal with the prosecutors,” Ethan threatened, leaning in.

“We will make sure you take the fall for the foundation’s missing funds.”

“The deal won’t save you,” Gabriel said, stepping forward.

“Not after the judge sees what is in this briefcase.”

The heavy oak doors of the courtroom opened.

A bailiff stepped out and looked at the crowd.

“The United States versus Richard Bennett is now in session,” the bailiff announced.

I took a deep breath and gripped the handle of my briefcase.

The courtroom was packed with journalists, lawyers, and spectators.

At the defense table sat Richard.

He looked older today, his hair disheveled, wearing a dark blue suit that seemed too large for him.

He did not look at me as I walked past.