“Where were you?” I asked, my voice a dry rasp. “They needed your signature for the transfusion. The babies almost died.”

Daniel rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, Evelyn. You’re at Walter Reed. Best doctors in the world. You were fine. I was securing the final rounds of lobbying for the contract.

I couldn’t drop a multimillion-dollar dinner because you were having a panic attack.”

I closed my eyes for a second. The sheer cruelty of it was the last key turning in the lock.

“You moved money,” I said, opening my eyes to pin him with a flat, unblinking stare.

His arrogance flickered — a microscopic glitch.