“IF SHE WANTS TO EAT, SEAT HER IN THE KITCHEN.” Celeste said it loudly enough for the woman to hear.

The engagement dinner was officially over.

Within twenty minutes, Nico had cleared the room. He didn't care about the sixty confused, whispering socialites filing out into the Chicago night. He only cared about the four people left standing in the dining room.

Nico, Celeste, Rosa, and me.

Nico locked the front door, turned around, and looked at the three of us.

“Sit,” he said softly, pulling out chairs at the massive dining table.

We sat. I placed the baking dish of ziti—now completely cold—in the center of the table. It felt absurd, but somehow anchoring.

Nico placed the iron skeleton key next to it.

“Arthur’s ledgers,” Nico said, staring at the rusty metal. “Rosa, why didn't you give these to the police?”

Rosa rested her hands on her lap. She looked exhausted, but the fear that usually clouded her eyes when Arthur was around was completely gone.

“Arthur owned the police in this precinct thirty years ago,” Rosa said simply. “If I handed them the ledgers, the books would have disappeared, and I would have been found floating in the river.”

Celeste stared at the key. “What exactly is in those books?”

“Everything,” Rosa said. “The offshore accounts. The bribes. The money he siphoned from Nico’s father’s side of the company. Arthur didn't just hurt Evelyn to cover up an affair. He hurt her because Evelyn found the books in his study while cleaning.”

I looked at my aunt’s old friend. “My mother always said Evelyn was too smart for her own good.”

Rosa smiled sadly at me. “She was. She knew Arthur was ruining the family. She took the ledgers to Nico’s mother. That’s why Nico’s mother was helping her escape. They were going to the FBI.”

Nico closed his eyes, absorbing the immense bravery of a mother he barely remembered.

“Tomorrow morning,” Nico said, his voice hardening into steel, “I am going to that bank. I’m pulling those ledgers, and I am personally handing them to the federal prosecutor.”

Celeste reached over and took his hand. “He’ll try to stop you.”

“Let him try,” Nico said.

Then, Nico turned to me.

“Nora.”

I sat up a little straighter. “Yes?”

“You are done cleaning this house.”

Panic flared in my chest. Even after everything, the instinct of survival kicked in. “Nico, please, I still need the income for my mom’s—”

“Nora, listen to me,” Nico interrupted gently. He reached across the table and touched my hand. “You are never touching a mop again. Tomorrow, I am setting up a private medical trust for your mother. The best doctors at Northwestern. Fully paid.”

I stared at him, the air leaving my lungs. “You can't do that. It’s too much.”

“It’s not enough,” Celeste said fiercely. She looked at me, her eyes red but burning with conviction. “This family stole your aunt. They stole your mother’s future. It’s time they paid it back.”

Tears blurred my vision. For the first time in my life, the crushing, suffocating weight of poverty lifted just an inch off my chest.

Rosa smiled, patting my arm.

Then, Rosa looked at Nico.

“There is something you need to know about the vault, Nico,” Rosa said, her tone shifting. It was darker now. Cautious.

Nico frowned. “What is it?”

“The ledgers aren't the only thing inside the box,” Rosa said.

Nico leaned forward. “What else is in there?”

Rosa hesitated. She looked at Celeste, then at Nico.

“When Nico’s mother fell,” Rosa said slowly, “she didn't die immediately. She lived for three hours in the hospital.”

Nico’s breath hitched. “I know.”

“Before she lost consciousness,” Rosa whispered, “she made the nurses give her a pen and paper. She wrote a letter. She made me promise to hide it until Arthur was out of power.”

Nico stared at her, his heart breaking all over again. “A letter to me?”

“No,” Rosa said.

She looked at Celeste.