“I’ll look through it.”

“He signed the plea agreement today,” she said quietly.

“Ten years.”

“Minimum security in Bastrop.”

I nodded.

“It could have been worse,” I said.

“His attorneys did a good job with the cooperation clause.”

“He gave them everything on Bianca and the offshore banks.”

“And Bianca?” I asked.

“Five years,” Maren said.

“She is testifying against the Belizean operators to get her sentence reduced.”

Maren walked over to the door, then paused.

“Are you going to be okay, Arden?” she asked.

“I am fine, Maren,” I said.

“I really am.”

“Goodnight,” she said.

“Goodnight.”

After she left, I pulled the tape off the cardboard box.

Inside were the small items that make up a man’s professional life.

A leather-bound journal.

A silver clock.

A stack of business cards with his old title.

At the bottom of the box was a small, velvet-lined case.

I opened it.

Inside was a heavy gold watch I had given him for our tenth anniversary.

The inscription on the back read: *To the future we build together.*

I rubbed my thumb over the engraved letters.