My dad sm;as;hed my tooth for refusing to give my salary to my sister. Mom laughed and said, “Parasites like you should learn to obey.” Dad laughed too and added, “Your sister earns happiness. You earn nothing.” Then their faces went pale.

I watched as Keller scanned the room. He wasn’t smiling. In his hand, he held a thick, manila envelope.

I had FedExed it to his private office two days ago.

Inside that envelope was everything. The proof of the charity embezzlement. The zoning bribes. The credit fraud. And, just for flavor, a USB drive containing audio recordings I’d captured from the living room—recordings of my parents mocking the very people in this room, calling them “gullible sheep” and “wallets with legs.”

Keller spotted my father.

The room seemed to quiet down, though the music played on. It was a ripple effect—people sensing a shift in the atmosphere.

My father saw Keller approaching and beamed, extending his hand. “Arthur! So glad you could—”

Keller didn’t take the hand. He stopped three feet away, his expression like carved granite.

“Tom,” Keller said. His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried. “We need to talk. Now.”