“He took money?” Wyatt said in a flat voice.

“We don’t know what that money represents yet,” Daniel cautioned.

But I remembered Robert at the hospital, telling me our second son was dead.

I remembered trying to sit up and asking to hold the baby, and Robert saying it was better not to see him.

Anger hit so hard I stood from the conference table.

“He held me while I mourned,” I said.

“He sat beside me for months while I blamed my body.”