Then Espe reached in and lifted out a photograph — a young woman with a split lip holding a little girl, maybe two years old — and Corwin understood, with a drop in his stomach like a floor giving way, that he had accused the wrong person entirely.

And worse: that he still had no idea who had actually been stealing from him.

Chapter 7 — Idelle and Zola

“The woman in the photo is my daughter.

Idelle,” Espe said, steady despite the silence pressing in on the room.

“The little girl is my granddaughter.