“I won’t go back to New York to rescue them from their own lies,” I said.

“I know you won’t,” Theo said, looking across the garden at the blue stretch of the Pacific showing between the green eucalyptus trees.

“Which means we stop playing defense.”

He shifted on the wooden bench and watched me closely.

“What exactly is in the blue folder Dr.

Vance gave you at the clinic?” Theo asked.

“The original lab ledgers,” I said.

“They show Spencer paid cash to alter his own diagnostic fragmentation scores while he let me take the blame for six years.”