“Why would you do that?” he whispered. “You’re my wife. Why would you ruin me?”

“Because you took things that did not belong to you,” I said.

I looked at Gloria, whose hands were clenched so tightly into her lap that her knuckles were white.

“And because you thought I was too weak to stop you,” I added.

Mr. Henderson closed his binder with a heavy thud.

He pulled a black cell phone from his breast pocket.

“Mr. Ralston,” Henderson said, his voice entirely devoid of the warmth he had shown when I first walked in. “This meeting is adjourned.”

“Wait, Henderson,” Graham said, half-rising from his seat. “We can restructure. We have other assets. The family estate in Highland Park. My mother’s house.”

Gloria looked up sharply, her eyes darting to Graham.

“What did you say?” Gloria asked.

“The Highland Park house,” Graham said, his words coming out in a desperate rush. “We put it on the secondary schedule. It’s worth at least three million.”

I looked down at the table, a small, grim smile appearing on my face.

“Your mother’s house is already encumbered, Graham,” I said.