Dad sat at one table with his attorney. Blake sat at another, his engagement ring gone. Claire was behind them in a cream coat, staring at me as if I had personally invented consequences.
The investigation had uncovered forged authorization letters, false claims of government access, and investor money diverted to pay for the engagement party, Dad’s mortgage, and Blake’s gambling debts.
When I entered, Dad whispered, “Please.”
The prosecutor asked me to identify the brochure, the summit photograph, and the messages requesting my signature. I answered carefully.
Blake’s lawyer tried to suggest I had encouraged the misunderstanding by attending family dinners.
“Dr. Hart,” he said, “isn’t it true your father was proud of your government service?”
“He called it clerical work until he learned investors valued it.”
“Did you ever tell your family details about the infrastructure fund?”
“No.”
“Did you ever imply such a fund might exist?”