I didn’t touch the blank sheet. Instead, I took out my phone and set it face up on the table, beside Dad’s. “Before anyone calls the police,” I said, “you should know who you’d be accusing.” Then I slid my business card across the white tablecloth to Bianca. Maren Holt. Founder and Managing Partner, Northstar Crest. She read it once. Then again. The color drained from her face.

“You’ve heard of us,” I said. Of course she had. Northstar Crest owned fifty-one percent of Lumière Rose Cosmetics. We had approved her appointment as CEO four months ago. I turned to Lucas, who was suddenly very interested in his wineglass. “My auditors flagged three point one million dollars missing from Bianca’s company last month,” I said quietly. “Every transfer traces back to an account in your name.”