I took my seat at the prosecution table next to Assistant U.S. Attorney Miller.

Miller nodded to me, his expression grave.

“Are we ready, Ms. Bennett?” he asked.

“We are ready,” I said.

The judge entered, and everyone stood.

After the preliminary statements, the prosecutor turned to the bench.

“The government calls Claire Bennett to the stand,” Miller said.

A murmur went through the gallery.

I stood up and walked toward the witness box.

The wood of the railing felt cool under my hand.

I took the oath, my voice steady as I swore to tell the truth.

I sat down in the wooden chair, looking out at the courtroom.

I saw Vanessa watching me, her hands clutched tightly in her lap.

I saw Ethan staring at the ceiling, trying to appear detached.

And I saw Richard, his eyes finally meeting mine, filled with a quiet, desperate warning.

“Ms. Bennett,” Prosecutor Miller began, walking toward the center of the room.

“Can you describe your role at the Bennett Foundation during the period in question?”

“I was the senior forensic accountant,” I said.