Gavin flipped to the photographs I had printed from his public vacation posts.

There was Camilla with a champagne flute on a balcony above the water.

There was Gavin leaning against a polished wooden boat.

Beneath them I had listed the dates of transfers from the education account.

Camilla snatched one photograph.

“How dare you keep pictures of me like some criminal?”

“They were public,” I replied.

“You published them yourself.”