Ruiz holstered his weapon and knelt beside us, taking in the bruises already forming on my neck. “Ms. Bennett,” he said softly. “Are you all right?”

“We are now,” I rasped.

They marched Daniel down the stairs. I helped my mother up and we followed slowly. The foyer was swarming with forensic accountants and state investigators, already tearing into the study, cataloging the fraud.

A trooper pushed Daniel toward the door. He stopped and wrenched his head back to look at me, his veneer entirely gone, a feral animal in a trap.

“You think this is over, Claire?” he spat, his eyes manic. “I have money hidden you’ll never find. I’ll drag this out in court for a decade. I’ll make you both suffer.”

Before I could answer, my mother stepped forward. She let the heavy wool coat she’d been clutching fall from her shoulders. She stood tall, and looked her abuser in the eye.