“Temporarily frozen while we determine forfeitable portions. Trying to avoid collateral harm.”

Collateral harm. A clean phrase for messy reality.

I exhaled. “Her tuition is paid through that trust.”

“I understand. That’s why I’m calling before formal action. Attorney Ms. Chambers will also be contacted. Options exist: voluntary relinquishment, restructuring. Documentation needed.”

He gave me a case number. Seventy-two hours for formal notice.

Workshop smelled the same—cedar, oil, old tools—but my body knew the feeling: a problem doesn’t end just because you built a wall.

Marisol stepped into the doorway. “Everything okay?”

I wanted to lie. “The government might freeze Emma’s trust,” I said.

Her eyes narrowed. “Because of Trevor?”

“Yes. Money he hid. Money I redirected.”

She stepped closer, calm. “Then we fix it.”

Fix it. The words felt like a hand on a shaking beam.

I called Evelyn within five minutes.

Her voice steady. Tension beneath.

“They’re after the offshore funds,” she said.

“So what happens?”

Emergency freeze. Trustee locks distributions. Tuition in jeopardy.

“How do we fix it?”

“Voluntary relinquishment. Return traceable funds. Petition to certify the rest as untainted.”

“And if money is mixed in?”

“Replace it.”

“How much?”

“Enough that you’ll feel it.”

Marisol’s hand on my shoulder. Light. Firm.

“Do it. Keep the trust alive,” I said.

Evelyn: “You may pay twice—once stolen, once replaced.”

“I’m not paying,” I said. “Trevor already did. Emma can’t lose.”