“Who told you to do it, Ethan?” Samuel asked, stepping toward him.

“Objection,” Mr. Vance said, though his voice was weak. “My client is not on trial for burglary today.”

“He is in my courtroom, Mr. Vance, and he has just admitted to destroying evidence under subpoena,” Judge Myers snapped.

She leaned over her bench, her eyes drilling into Ethan.

“I suggest you answer the question, Mr. Lawson,” the judge said.

Ethan looked at Margaret, his eyes wide with a desperate, child-like fear.

Margaret did not look back at him; she kept her eyes fixed straight ahead, her jaw set like stone.

“My mother,” Ethan whispered, his voice cracking. “She said the files would ruin us.”

Margaret did not blink, but her nostrils flared.

“That is a absolute falsehood,” Margaret said, her voice rising in pitch. “The boy is unstable.”

“Sit down, Mrs. Lawson,” Judge Myers said, her voice dropping to a dangerous level.

The court reporter’s fingers flew across the machine, the soft clicking the only sound left.

I sat very still, watching the empire Margaret had built crumble in a matter of minutes.