Daniel's lawyer called Marcus the next Monday. Suddenly, there was no more talk of twenty thousand pounds and an old Volvo.

The audit had found everything. The offshore account. The fake consultancy payments to his mother. The flat, the hotels, the bracelet. The board voted to remove him as chief executive and to recover every penny.

He had no house, because the house was mine. No car, because the car was the company's. And soon, not much money at all.

“He wants to settle,” Marcus said. “His lawyer says he'll accept whatever you think is fair.” “What would a judge give him?”

“Honestly? Not much. You could leave him with almost nothing.”

I thought about the man who once made me laugh so hard on a train that we missed our stop. About Leo, who still asked every night when Dad was coming home.

“He keeps his own shares,” I said. “Thirty-eight per cent. He'll have to sell some to repay the company, but he keeps the rest. He sees Leo every other weekend, if he wants to. And he pays child support like any other father.”

Marcus looked at me for a long moment. “That's very generous, Grace.”

“It's not generous,” I said. “It's fair. That's the difference between us.”