A silver-framed photograph of Carter and Vivian stood near the brass lamp.

I walked over to the desk, picked up the photograph, and dropped it into the wastebasket.

Then I sat down in the large leather chair behind the desk.

It was too big for me, designed for a man who wanted to look imposing.

I pulled the chair closer to the desk and reached for the telephone.

I dialed the number for the nursery.

It rang twice before Clara, the nanny, answered.

“Hello?”

“Clara,” I said. “It’s Evelyn.”

“Is everything all right?” she asked, her voice anxious.

“Yes,” I said. “Everything is fine.”

“How is June?”

“She is asleep,” Clara said. “She had her bottle an hour ago.”

“She is perfect, Evelyn.”

“I am coming home now,” I said.

“I will be there in twenty minutes.”

I hung up the phone.

Lydia walked into the office, carrying a manila folder.

“The bank has confirmed the freeze on Carter’s personal accounts,” she said, sitting on the edge of the desk.

“They also halted the wire transfer to the Cayman account.”