Serena turned her left hand, and the heavy diamond charm bracelet slid down against her wrist, its row of polished stones glittering under the desk light in front of Uncle Raymond.

I looked from Julian’s tight, desperate smile down to the heavy diamond bracelet on Serena’s wrist, and I knew their sudden show of family affection was completely fake.

Melissa Grant adjusted her wire-rimmed reading glasses on her nose and tapped her silver ballpoint pen against the second blue folder.

She pulled out three stapled pages stamped with the red First National Bank crest.

“On May fourteenth, at two forty-five in the afternoon, Victor Moreno called our central compliance line,” Melissa said, her voice completely flat.