I slid three agreements across the table.

They could resign, surrender their benefits, repay every traceable dollar, and cooperate with the investigators — or I would pursue civil action alongside the criminal case.

My mother studied the pages. “The lake house?” “Collateral.” “My jewelry?” “Collateral.”

Sienna’s voice shook. “My trust fund?” “Frozen.”

She started to cry — not for the employees who’d lost their savings, but because consequences had finally reached her.

My father refused to sign, at first.