I turned toward him.

“How did you even know what you found?”

“I didn’t.”

His voice was trembling now.

For the first time that evening, he looked ten years old again.

“I found the phone in Grandma’s storage unit. It had Dad’s name on the case. I charged it.”

Marianne suddenly stood.

“I told him not to.”

Julian whipped toward her.

“You gave my son access to that unit?”

“You stopped paying for it,” she said.

“You had no right.”

“I paid the bill when the company contacted me.”

Her voice shook.

“Three months ago they were going to auction everything inside. Your father’s things were there.”

Julian’s expression hardened.

“Don’t bring Dad into this.”

Marianne looked as though he had slapped her.

Then she said quietly:

**“Your father is the reason that phone was there.”**

The room fell silent again.

Julian stopped struggling.

I looked between them.

Julian’s father, Robert Cross, had died almost two years earlier.

Heart failure.

Sudden.

He had been seventy-one.

A complicated man, but always kind to Noah.

During my divorce, Robert had called me once.

Only once.

He had sounded strange.

Nervous.

He asked whether Noah and I were financially secure.

I told him we were fine.

He began to say something else.

Then Julian walked into the room, and Robert immediately changed the subject.

Three weeks later, he was dead.

“What did Robert know?” I asked.

Marianne’s eyes filled.

“More than I understood.”

Julian shook his head.

“Mom, stop.”

She ignored him.

“After Robert died, I found a key taped beneath his desk.”

My skin prickled.

“There was a note attached.”

“What did it say?”

Marianne looked at Noah.

“‘For the boy, when he’s old enough to understand what his father became.’”

Julian went white.

Victoria stared at him.

“You knew?”

“No.”

“You knew Robert had evidence?”

“No.”

“You’re lying.”

“I said no!”

The microphone amplified his shout.

Noah flinched.

I went to him immediately and placed my hand on his shoulder.

“That’s enough,” I said. “We’re leaving.”

But Victoria spoke.

“No.”

I looked at her.

She was no longer the laughing bride.

Her face was pale.

Her hands trembled against the skirt of her designer gown.

“I want to hear the rest.”

“Victoria,” Julian warned.

She turned on him.

“What else is on that drive?”

Noah looked at me.

I wanted to protect him.

But that choice had already been taken from us the moment Julian decided our names could be used as shields for whatever he had done.

I nodded once.

Noah tapped the screen.

A folder opened.

There were dozens of files.

Bank statements.

Scanned contracts.

Photographs.

Audio recordings.

Messages.

One file had a strange name.

**AFTER_THE_WEDDING.docx**

Victoria saw it.

“Open that.”

Julian began struggling again.

“Don’t you dare.”

The security guards tightened their grip.

Victoria shouted, “OPEN IT!”

Noah clicked.

A document appeared on the screen.

At the top was a date.

Six weeks earlier.

Below that were account numbers and transfer instructions.