“You have nothing left to burn,” I said. “The money is gone.”

“I have the offshore keys,” he said.

“They were linked to the primary account,” I said. “The freeze is global.”

The laptop screen flashed again.

A new email appeared in my inbox from the bank’s security liaison.

It was a confirmation of the total lock on all accounts associated with Lucas’s name and aliases.

I clicked it open.

The PDF attachment contained the list of frozen assets.

Even his personal credit cards had been suspended.

“You’re lying,” Lucas said.

But we could hear his heavy footsteps moving quickly across the floor.

He was running.

“Lucas, stop,” Chloe cried.

“I’m going to the garage,” he whispered.

We heard the sound of a heavy door opening and closing.

The acoustics changed.

The sound became echoing and hollow, characteristic of a concrete garage.

“The car,” I said. “He’s going to try to drive.”

“He can’t,” Chloe said. “The garage door is electric. If they cut the power…”

“They don’t need to cut the power,” I said.

On the phone, we heard the rumble of a garage door opener.