“I know I don’t deserve it. But I’m pregnant with Levi’s child, and surely you wouldn’t let your own grandchild be born behind bars.”

I had the medical file the prosecutors had entered into the record open in front of me.

Months before any of this, she’d quietly undergone a permanent surgery to ensure she’d never have a child, and hidden it from my son.

“You’re not pregnant,” I said. “And if you were, a baby would never be a key to a door you locked yourself.” I hung up.

We recovered what had been stolen — not out of spite, but because it was ours. Cyrus voided the fraudulent contracts and pursued the assets that corporate money had bought for Delia’s relatives.

Some returned the cars quietly; others signed repayment plans; the ones who’d cheered her sudden wealth vanished the moment it was gone.