She extended her hand.
"Thank you.
My late husband donated to that foundation for twenty-two years."
I shook her hand.
"The money will be traced and recovered.
That's what the investigation is for."
She nodded once and walked out.
When the room was nearly empty, Marissa sat down beside me.
"I should have come to you sooner," she said.
"I should have come to you sooner."
She looked at me.
"You knew?"
"I knew about Blake.
I didn't know you were recording him."
"I almost threw that USB drive in the trash three times."
"Why didn't you?"
"Because every time I tried, he said something else.
Something worse.
And I realized he was never going to stop."
I put my hand over hers.
She gripped it.
"Where will you go?" I asked.
"My friend Diane has a guest house in Marietta.
I've been staying there on and off for two months."
"Two months?"
"He didn't notice.
He was too busy with the accounts."
I squeezed her hand.
"You don't have to go back to that house."
"I know.
I already called a locksmith."
For the first time that night, I almost smiled.
My father was still sitting at the head table.
He hadn't moved.
My mother was beside him, staring at the tablecloth.
I walked over.
"Dad."
He looked up.
His eyes were swollen.
"I don't know what to say to you," he said.
"You could start with the truth."
"What truth?"
"Did you know what Blake was doing?"
He was quiet for a long time.
"I knew something wasn't right," he said finally.
"I saw the transfer amounts.
I saw the names of companies I didn't recognize.
Blake told me it was a new investment strategy.
I wanted to believe him."
"Why?"
"Because if Blake was succeeding, it meant I hadn't made a mistake letting him into this family."
"You didn't make a mistake letting him in.
He made the mistake of betraying you."
"And I made the mistake of not checking."
"Yes.
You did."
He nodded slowly.
"What happens to the foundation?"
"It goes into receivership.
The court will appoint someone to audit everything.
If the money can be traced, it will be returned to the donors."
"My reputation—"
"Dad.
Your reputation is the least of what's at stake."
He put his hands flat on the table.
"I spent forty years building that church.
Forty years of sermons, counseling, community work.
And I let one man destroy it because I didn't want to believe my daughter's husband was a thief."
"You still have the church.