“Don’t touch my son.”
Her mouth opened, but nothing came out.
Noah tapped the screen. A file appeared with the date from one week before Daniel’s accident. Its title was only three words:
FOR MY FAMILY.
Grant moved into the aisle. “That phone belongs to Daniel’s estate,” he said. “Hand it over.”
“No,” I replied.
His jaw tightened. “You have no idea what you’re doing.”
But I did.
I also knew why Vivian’s hands had begun to shake. Daniel had confronted her in his office after discovering a loan secured with my forged signature and a transfer routed through a company Grant secretly controlled.
He had told me he was collecting proof. He had not told me he had recorded the confrontation.
Vivian glanced toward the chapel doors as if measuring the distance.
Then Noah pressed play.
Daniel’s voice filled the room. Calm. Clear. Alive.
