He dropped his eyes down to the table.

“No, it isn’t.”

That single, quiet admission carried far more genuine honesty than most of the grandiose apologies he had offered me over the years.

I picked up the stack of Crestview bank statements and placed them directly in front of him.

“Explain these to me.”

Gavin stared down at the documents for a long moment, then leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh.

“It is for my Aunt Patricia.”