“And you have excuses.”

Lauren reached for the lock. He grabbed her hand. She looked down at his fingers, then slowly raised her eyes. “Let go.” For several seconds neither moved.

Then he released her.

Lauren opened the door. Cold night air came into the house. Claire stood under the porch light in a dark coat, the leather briefcase against her side.

She looked past Lauren and found Ethan. Seven years of anger could have detonated in that moment. Instead she spoke calmly. “You kept the ledger.”

His expression stayed blank. “I don’t know what you mean.”