"The sister had to drop out of college. Full scholarship too, but couldn't afford books, housing?—"
"And the mother's medical bills?" A low whistle. "Richard Everett really fucked them over. Convinced them to invest their entire retirement fund in some development scheme."
Jake moved closer to the wall, the scarf still twisted in his fingers.
"Harrison kept making payments on the pharmacy right up until the raid. Everett told him last week everything was fine, investment was secure?—"
"While moving the last of their money offshore. Pretty cold."
He'd known about Richard's victims, of course. Had read the files, traced the money. But somehow he'd kept it abstract—numbers on paper, accounts in spreadsheets. Not real people with real lives that had been shattered.
Not people like Michael Harrison, who'd trusted Richard Everett right up until the end.
Jake's eyes fell on the case files still spread across his desk. He picked up the nearest one, really reading it this time. Not just looking for evidence, but seeing the human cost behind every transaction.
The Wilsons: college fund wiped out.
The Mortons: in danger of losing their grocery store.
The Patels: second mortgage they'd never needed.
And through it all, Richard's signature. Richard's promises. Richard's lies.
Voices in the hallway made him look up.
"Cooper really quit?"
"Yeah. Guess sleeping with the mark's daughter complicated things."
Jake's jaw clenched. But before he could move, another voice joined in:
"He really did a number on her."
"That's what happens when you get personally involved. Everyone gets hurt."
The voices faded. Jake stared at his half-packed box, at the scattered evidence of lives destroyed by a man Hannah had trusted completely.
Just like she'd trusted him.
Attached to one of the files was a photo—Michael Harrison at his pharmacy counter. He was smiling, shaking Richard Everett's hand. Hannah was there too, that bright laugh Jake loved caught in mid-motion.
People had trusted Everett, believed in him, right up until the moment the FBI had stormed his office.
Hannah had trustedJake. She'd believed in him. She'd loved him.
His eyes fell on Michael Harrison's statement, the words jumping out at him:
"He made us trust him. Made us believe he cared. And then he took everything."
Jake could have been reading about himself.
Because wasn't that exactly what he'd done to Hannah?
CHAPTER 12
Hannah
Hannah tracedher fingers over the worn leather cover of the old photo album before opening it. The bakery was quiet, closed early because she couldn't bear another day of waiting for a rush of regulars that never came. But the silence felt wrong – especially on a Sunday.
