Martin arrived forty minutes later.

He was sixty-one, heavyset, with reading glasses pushed up on his forehead and a leather briefcase that looked like it had survived three decades of difficult rooms.

He shook William's hand at the door, took one look at Sandra sitting at the kitchen table, and said nothing beyond a quiet nod.

William made coffee.

Martin sat across from Sandra and opened his briefcase.

"I'd like to record this conversation," Martin said.

"With both parties' consent."

"No," Sandra said.

"Then I'll take notes." He uncapped a pen.

"Mrs.

Sandra.

I want to be straightforward with you.

I've been William's attorney for eleven years.

My job tonight is to understand what has happened in this household and to protect my client's interests and the interests of his daughter.

I'm not here to ambush you.

But I do need accurate information."

Sandra looked at William.

"You're doing this tonight?

Right now?"

"Lily is in my daughter's bedroom," William said.

"She's been under the floor of this house for three days.

Yes.

Tonight."

Martin set his notepad on the table.

"Let's start with Daniel Marsh."

Sandra's eyes moved to Martin.

"What about him?"

"How long have you and Mr.

Marsh been in a financial relationship?"

"I don't know what you mean by that."

Martin slid a piece of paper across the table.

It was the bank statement Lily had brought.

The one showing fourteen months of transfers.

Sandra looked at it.

She didn't touch it.

"William showed me that already."

"I'd like to hear your explanation of it."

"Daniel and I were investing together.

Privately.

It's not illegal."

"Using funds from a joint marital account without your spouse's knowledge or consent is not investment," Martin said.

"It's dissipation of marital assets.

In this state that carries significant weight in divorce proceedings."

The word divorce landed in the room like something dropped from a height.

Sandra looked at William.

He was looking at his coffee cup.

"Is that what this is?" she said.

"You've already decided?"

William didn't answer.

Martin continued.

"The property sale.

Your mother-in-law's house.

The lawyer who handled it — a Mr.

Gerald Foss — do you know him personally?"

"He was recommended to me."

"By whom?"

A pause.

"Daniel."

"And the buyer.

Harwick Property Holdings.

Are you familiar with that company?"

Sandra's hands moved on the table.

Just slightly.

"I may have heard the name."

"Harwick Property Holdings was registered fourteen months ago," Martin said.

"Its sole director is a woman named Carol Marsh." He looked up from his notes.

"Daniel Marsh's sister."

The kitchen was very quiet.

"The house was sold to a company controlled by Daniel's family," Martin said, "at a price one hundred and seventy thousand dollars below its appraised value.

The difference between the sale price and market value represents a direct financial loss to your mother-in-law.

And given that the transaction was facilitated by a lawyer introduced through you, and that you have an existing undisclosed financial relationship with Daniel Marsh, there is a credible case for fraud."

Sandra said nothing.

"That's not a divorce matter," Martin said.

"That's a criminal matter."

Sandra's jaw tightened.

"I want my own lawyer."

"That is absolutely your right," Martin said.

"I'd encourage you to call one tonight."

She stood up and picked up her phone.

She walked to the far end of the kitchen and turned her back.

William watched her.

He could hear her speaking in a low, fast voice.

He couldn't make out the words.

Martin leaned slightly toward William and spoke quietly.

"Is there anything else I should know before she comes back?"

"She threatened to take Eva," William said.

"She mentioned Daniel has a family lawyer."

Martin nodded slowly.

"We'll file a motion for temporary custody orders in the morning.

Given what happened to your sister in this house, and the threat made to your daughter, you have strong grounds." He paused.

"Is your sister willing to make a statement?"

"Yes."

"And your daughter?"

William looked toward the hallway.

The light under Eva's door was still on.

"She's six," he said.

"I know.

We'll handle it carefully.

But what she told you tonight — that Sandra threatened her — that matters."

Sandra came back to the table.

She sat down.

Her phone was face-down in her hand.

"Daniel's lawyer is coming in the morning," she said.

"Fine," Martin said.

"He's going to advise me not to say anything further tonight."

"Also fine."

She looked at William.

Something in her face had reorganized itself.

The fear from earlier was gone.

In its place was something more familiar — the composure she wore like a coat.

"You think you have everything," she said to William.

"You think Lily gave you everything."

"I think I have enough," he said.

"She doesn't know about the second account," Sandra said.

William went still.

Martin's pen stopped moving.

"What second account?" William said.

Sandra smiled.

It was a small smile.

Controlled.

"The one in Eva's name," she said.

"Set up eighteen months ago.

I'm the sole signatory until Eva turns eighteen." She tilted her head slightly.

"Daniel and I have been very careful, William.

You have the account you found.

You don't have the one that matters."

Martin set his pen down.

"How much?" William said.

Sandra looked at the ceiling for a moment, as if she were doing a calculation she already knew the answer to.

"Enough," she said, "that walking away quietly starts to look like the smarter choice."