I watched Graham turn his head as the murmurs began to ripple through the ballroom.

His face drained of what little color he had left.

“Graham Ralston?” the taller detective asked, his voice cutting through the soft violin music.

Graham tried to speak, but only a dry click came from his throat.

“Yes,” he finally whispered.

“You are under arrest for grand larceny, securities fraud, and bank fraud,” the detective said.

The second detective stepped behind Graham and pulled his hands behind his back.

The metal of the handcuffs clicked loudly in the sudden silence of the room.

Gloria let out a sharp, guttural shriek that echoed off the vaulted ceiling.

“What are you doing?” she screamed, grabbing the detective’s sleeve. “This is a mistake! My son is the president of Ralston Enterprises!”

“Ma’am, step back, or you will be arrested for obstruction,” the detective said without looking at her.

Graham’s knees buckled slightly as they turned him toward the exit.

He looked back at me over his shoulder, his eyes wide and pleading.

I did not look down at him.