He turned his laptop toward me.

The video still showed Patricia’s face through the windshield, one hand on the wheel, and Derek in the passenger seat with a suitcase wedged between his knees.

I had watched it eleven times.

On the eleventh I noticed the date stamp in the corner, a Tuesday, two days before Lily ran out of cereal.

“We’ve got enough for a filing,” Douglas said.

“Not enough for a guarantee.”