I turned and handed the ledger to Marisol.

“Officers,” Marisol said. “In addition to the restraining order violation, the attempted burglary, and the destruction of property — I’d like to formally submit this as evidence of grand theft, wire fraud, and embezzlement.”

The lead deputy nodded and pulled his cuffs. “Arthur Bennett. Ryan Bennett. Turn around, hands behind your backs.”

The click of the handcuffs closing over my father’s wrists was the loudest sound I have ever heard. Louder than the thunder. Louder than the glass.

It was the sound of a rusted chain finally snapping.

They walked them off the porch with their heads bowed against the rain. Megan didn’t follow. She stood paralyzed, staring at the empty driveway, and then came apart into hysterical sobs.