PART 2
At seven the next morning, I sat across from two federal investigators in a conference room that smelled of burnt coffee and new carpet.
Noah was at Evelyn’s house with her husband, building a cardboard castle in their living room and believing we were taking a short vacation. I hated hiding the truth from him, but I could not burden an eight-year-old with crimes, betrayal, and the possibility that his father might soon be questioned by federal agents.
Special Agent Lena Ortiz opened a gray folder.
“Mrs. Mercer, before we begin, I need to be clear. Speaking with us does not automatically protect you from legal exposure.”
Evelyn leaned forward. “My client understands.”
I did, although hearing the words made my hands tighten beneath the table.
Daniel had built Mercer Development using my inheritance, my father’s connections, and years of unpaid labor I had once called support. My signature appeared on early loan documents, vendor agreements, and corporate resolutions. If Daniel had hidden illegal payments behind those records, my name could be tangled in his choices.
