I set June back in her carrier and went to my desk in the study.

In the bottom drawer, under a stack of old tax returns, was a small black device.

It was a high-sensitivity digital voice recorder I had bought months ago when I first suspected Carter.

I had never used it.

Now, it was my only weapon.

If I could get Vivian to admit what they did, the trademarks wouldn’t matter.

The signatures they claimed I signed while I was drugged in the hospital room—those were the key.

They had forged my name on the initial domestic transfer.

If Vivian admitted that on tape, their entire case would crumble.

I picked up the recorder and tested the battery.

The small green light flickered to life.

I needed to hide it under my coat, somewhere they would not think to search.

My phone buzzed on the desk.

It was a text from Lydia.

*Did you find the bank records?*

I typed back rapidly: *Yes. But Carter was just here. He threatened to take June. I have to meet them tomorrow.*

My thumb hovered over the screen.