That part was true. I had touched it, though. It was heavier than it looked, with a number stenciled on the side. I didn’t understand what it was—only that the silence in that basement felt wrong, like someone had just left.

Daniel let out a short, humorless laugh. “So that’s what this is? You trespassed, found something illegal, and now everyone’s pretending I’m the villain because I sold a condemned house?”

“Condemned?” Mom stared at him. “That house was never condemned.”

The table froze again.

Daniel’s expression shifted—just slightly. Too late.

The female marshal caught it. “Mr. Carter, you told the title company the structure had become unsafe after storm damage. You used that statement to expedite access and bypass dispute delays.”

“I was advised to do that.”

“By whom?”

He didn’t answer.

Then my mother did something I had never seen her do.

She pointed at Neil.

My stepfather went pale. “Karen—”

“No,” she said, voice shaking but firm. “No more protecting anyone. He pushed Daniel to sell it quickly. He kept saying we had to close before the Marshals came back with another warrant.”

Voices erupted across the table.