There it was.
The confession none of us had needed to force.
The police did not arrest Lila immediately.
They documented everything.
My broken glasses were photographed. My phone was bagged. Login records were preserved. The email Lila had sent from my device was traced to a consultant working for a firm trying to bypass the university’s licensing office.
Then Dad made a mistake.
He demanded a lawyer before anyone accused him.
Detective Cole asked why.
He said nothing.
By noon, the answer was in the archived messages.
For six
