I came home from the funeral to tell my parents and sister that my husband had left me $8.5m and 6 Manhattan lofts. When I walked into the house, I overheard my parents talking. What they were saying… made my blood run cold.

Harris convened an emergency session of the church board. Four members, closed door, confidential. They reviewed the numbers. They called Maggie directly and they made a decision.

At the annual gala, instead of Gerald’s usual treasurer’s report, Maggie will present the certified independent audit. It will be framed as a routine transparency initiative, something the board has been planning for months. Gerald won’t suspect a thing because there’s always a financial segment at the gala. This year, someone else is delivering it.

“Harris said something else,” James adds. “He said he wants Fay there front and center. He said if Gerald’s family knew what he was doing, they deserve to hear the truth first. If they didn’t know, they still deserve to hear it.”

I stand in the Glendale Library parking lot, phone pressed to my ear, and feel the ground shift under me. Three days from now, my father will stand in front of his community and give a speech about trust, and the truth will be sitting two rows behind him.