“You signed voluntarily.”
“So did you.”
The words landed.
Several guests turned.
Cordelia ripped through the pages.
“This is absurd.
Environmental fines?
Easements?
Restoration bonds?”
“And indemnities,” Phoebe said.
Flynn glared at me.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
Phoebe answered.
“Current estimated exposure is approximately eleven-point-four million dollars.”
Someone behind Flynn whispered, “Jesus.”
Cordelia’s face went white.
Then red.
Then strangely calm.
“You think this frightens me?”
I tilted my head.
“No.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“I think this does.”
Phoebe opened the velvet box.
The real emerald caught the garden lights.
Cordelia stopped breathing.
Her hand flew to her neck.
Then slowly, horribly, she understood.
The pendant she wore was fake.
“That…” she whispered.
I watched fear spread across her face.
Not surprise.
Fear.
Henry Dalca stepped forward.
Cordelia recognized him.
Her knees nearly buckled.
“No.”
Henry’s voice shook.
“You remember my father?”
Cordelia backed away.
Flynn looked between them.
