If I confessed — if I signed a statement saying that I had used Flynn’s credentials without his knowledge, that the theft was mine and mine alone — then Fiona would quietly destroy the files implicating Flynn, and he would be safe, and the company would survive, and no one would ever know.

“Why?” Flynn choked out, tears running down his face, unable to stay silent after all.

“Mariana — why in God’s name would you take that?

Why would you go to prison for me?”

And I told him the truth, which he had never known.

“Because that week,” I said, “your grandfather had just had a massive heart attack.”