“We’ll need the phone, Arthur,” Miller said, stepping forward.

“Take it,” Vance said. “It’s in my jacket pocket. The password is my office line.”

Miller reached into Vance’s soot-stained tweed coat and pulled out a black smartphone.

He handed it to Voss, who immediately began documenting the files.

“This is enough to secure an indictment against both of them by morning,” Voss said.

“What happens to my mother?” I asked, my voice barely more than a whisper.

Voss sighed, his face looking older than ever under the harsh fluorescent lights.

“The district attorney will have to charge her, Maren,” he said. “Conspiracy to commit grand theft is a non-probationary offense when it involves state-adjacent land values of this size.”

“She won’t survive prison,” I said.

“There is one way out,” Voss said, looking at the yellow pad. “But it will require her complete surrender.”

“Explain,” I said.

“If we present this evidence to her before the sheriff files the formal charges with the county clerk, we can offer her a deal,” Voss said. “She agrees to cooperate fully with the prosecution against Dorian and Vance. In exchange, she signs a total, irrevocable forfeiture of any and all claims to your father’s estate, including the Austin house and the remaining trust funds.”