For five years, I believed that the man I had sacrificed everything to protect had never come, never asked, never cared — that I had given my freedom for a coward who could not even be bothered to answer a letter from the mother of his child.

And for five years, Flynn believed that the woman who had confessed to robbing him was exactly the thief she had confessed to being, and that her silence was guilt, and that she wanted nothing to do with him.

We were each handed a false version of the other, and we each grieved and raged at a person who did not exist.

That is the deepest damage a liar of Fiona’s caliber does.

It is not the money.

Money can be clawed back; a pardon can be signed; a record can be cleared.