He met her at the café on Pemberton Street because Marcus had agreed to it on one condition: Daniel would record the conversation on his phone, placed face-down on the table, and he would not make any agreements, promises, or concessions of any kind.

Diane was already there when he arrived.

No handbag this time.

No fresh nails.

She looked like she hadn't slept.

He sat down.

She wrapped both hands around her coffee cup.

"I need you to understand something before you blow this up," she said.

"I'm listening."

"The money — I know how it looks.

I know what Marcus is telling you.

But it wasn't what you think."

"Then tell me what it was."

She looked down at her cup.

"My mother offered to manage the account.

She said it would be safer — that if the money sat in my account, I'd spend it.

She said she'd hold it for Lily and release it when Lily actually needed something."

Daniel kept his face still.

"And did she?"

Silence.

"Diane.

Did she release it when Lily needed something?"

"She said she was investing it.

That it would grow.

That Lily would have more when she was older."

"And the cash withdrawals?"

Diane's jaw tightened.

"She said that was the investment.

Moving it into a better vehicle.

I didn't ask questions."

"You didn't ask questions," he repeated.

"I trusted her." Her voice cracked slightly on the last word.

"She's my mother."

He looked at her across the table.

She was not lying — or not entirely.

But she was also not telling him everything.

"The text messages, Diane.

You asked me for money for shoes.

For the dentist.

For the school trip.

You told me Lily needed those things."

"She did need them."

"Then why didn't she get them?"

Diane pressed her lips together.

Her eyes went bright.

"Because every time I asked my mother to release money from the account, she said it wasn't the right time.

She said she'd cover it herself and settle up later.

And then she didn't.

And I —" She stopped.

"I was embarrassed.

I didn't want you to know she was controlling it.

So I asked you for more instead."

The café was quiet around them.

Someone's spoon clinked against a cup.

"You let me think you were spending it on yourself," he said.

"I know."

"Lily's been wearing split shoes for months."

"I know." Her voice dropped to almost nothing.

"I know, Daniel."

He sat back.

"I need you to say this to Marcus.

On record.

Everything you just told me — about your mother, the account, the withdrawals, the investments.

All of it."

She looked up sharply.

"If I do that —"

"If you do that, I can make sure the audit focuses on the right person."

Her face went through something complicated.

Fear.

Relief.

Something that might have been shame.

"She'll never forgive me," Diane said quietly.

"Lily is seven years old," he said.

"She carried a bank statement in her backpack because she didn't know what else to do with it.

She's been telling herself you were saving up."

Diane closed her eyes.

"Will you protect her?" she said.

Not him.

Lily.

"If I tell Marcus everything — will you make sure Lily is protected?"

"That's the only reason I'm sitting here," he said.

She opened her eyes.

Nodded once.

"Set up the meeting," she said.

"I'll come."