My husband beat me until I lost consciousness, then calmly told everyone at the hospital I had “slipped in the shower.”

Bank transfers either occurred or they didn’t.

Accounts existed.

Signatures appeared.

Money moved.

Facts stayed still long enough to be documented.

People were harder.

People believed charm.

Status.

A clean suit.

A donation plaque.

I looked at Detective Ruiz.

“My brother has files.”

Liam’s eyes shifted toward me.

Ruiz pulled the visitor’s chair closer.

“What kind of files?”

“Photographs. Messages. Financial records.”

“Financial records related to the assault?”

“Related to Ethan.”

Liam leaned forward.