“Enough.”

Vanessa laughed bitterly.

“Oh, now it’s enough?”

Something had happened while I was gone.

Her anger was no longer directed only at me.

I saw the folded page in her hand.

A bank statement.

Lucas noticed the folder I carried.

“What is that?” he asked.

Daniel immediately said, “Nothing relevant to tonight.”

I walked to Lucas and handed it to him.

“It concerns the money used to pay for tonight.”

Daniel stepped forward.

“Claire.”

Lucas opened the folder.

His eyes moved down the first page.

Then the second.

Then back to Daniel.

“What am I looking at?”

“Payment requests submitted in my name,” I said.

“Four of them were forged.”

The room changed.

People stopped pretending not to listen.

Lucas looked at Vanessa.

“Did you know about this?”

“No.”

Her answer came fast.

Too fast.

Daniel said, “This is a bookkeeping mistake.”

Mr.

Patel had followed me inside.

He spoke calmly.

“No, sir.

We verified the source of the authorizations this afternoon.”

Vanessa’s eyes moved to him.

“Why is the venue discussing private payments in front of everyone?”

“Because,” I said, “you decided I was nothing more than the person paying.”

She flinched.

For the first time, the insult seemed to embarrass her.

Lucas continued reading.

Then he stopped.

“What is Mercer Design Holdings?”

“My company.”

“And VNR Collective?”

Vanessa froze.

“That’s my boutique.”

Lucas held up the page.

“Then why did your boutique receive twenty-two thousand dollars two days after Claire’s company paid the first venue deposit?”

Vanessa looked at Daniel.

I saw the answer before she spoke.

Her face crumpled not with guilt, but realization.

“You told me she gave that money to help with winter inventory.”

Daniel’s jaw tightened.

“Not here.”

“You told me she offered it.”

“Vanessa.”

Her voice rose.

“You said she wanted to help.”

Daniel took the microphone from her hand and set it on the table.

“This conversation is over.”

Lucas stepped between them.

“No, I think it just started.”

Daniel stared at him.

Lucas was not intimidated.

“What did you do with the money?” I asked.

Daniel rubbed his temples.

“It was temporary.”

“What was?”

“I had an investment opportunity.”

A sound escaped Vanessa.

Not quite a laugh.

Not quite a sob.

“You used my company?” she asked.

“I moved funds through it because your account was already connected to the payment system.”

Lucas looked stunned.

“You moved someone else’s money through Vanessa’s business?”

Daniel’s voice became defensive.

“I was going to put everything back.”

That sentence.

The anthem of every desperate man who believed future success would erase present theft.

“How much did you lose?” I asked.

He didn’t answer.

“Daniel.”

“All of it.”

The words fell heavily.

Vanessa took a step backward.

“All of what?”

Daniel looked at the floor.

“Most of the eighty-six.”

The pavilion seemed to shrink around us.

Lucas closed the folder.

His parents were standing now.

Daniel saw them and immediately straightened, as if posture could restore dignity.

“It was an investment that turned unexpectedly.”

I almost admired his commitment to euphemism.

“What investment?” Lucas asked.

Daniel said nothing.

A voice came from the doorway.

“Tell them about Marianne.”

Everyone turned.

She stood beneath the glass entry arch wearing a charcoal coat over a simple black dress.

Her hair was windblown.

She held the handle