“The hearing is tomorrow morning,” Harold said. “Just tell Judge Whitaker you agree to sell the lower acreage. We can secure the emergency line of credit by noon.”

I looked away from her, staring down the dark, winding stretch of Cedar Hollow Road.

The headlights cut through the heavy fog, illuminating the wet pine needles on the asphalt.

I knew what lay in my desk drawer inside the cabin.

I had spent the last three nights going through Trevor’s public financial disclosures.

I had found the discrepancy in his filing for the Cedar Hollow zoning permits.

He had lied to the county about the environmental impact studies on the ridge.

He had lied to his investors about the septic clearances.

And he had lied to the court about his liquid assets.

“I’m not signing anything,” I said into the phone.

“Meredith!” Denise sobbed. “How can you be so selfish? We raised you!”

“You raised me to expect nothing from you,” I said. “And that’s exactly what I have.”

Kelsey gripped the steering wheel with her free hand, her nails digging into the leather.