My parents called at 1 A.M. screaming, “Wire $20,000—your brother’s in the ER!” I asked one question… and they dodged it. So I said, “Call your favorite daughter,” hung up, and went back to sleep. The next morning… police were at my door.

Emily’s eyes flashed toward my mom, then my dad, then me. She looked cornered. Angry. Small.

“That could be anybody,” my dad said quickly. “Anybody could type her name.”

Green nodded. “True. Which is why we’re verifying the account information. But I’m going to ask this plainly: did any of you contact Olivia last night asking for money?”

My mother’s face crumpled into something that looked almost like sincerity. “We didn’t call her,” she said, voice trembling. “I swear. We would never—”

Mark snorted quietly, not even trying to hide it.

My gaze snapped to him. “What is that?”

Mark shrugged, eyes sliding away. “Nothing.”

Everything in me tightened. Mark has a special talent for acting like other people’s pain is background noise.

Green continued, still calm. “Olivia’s bank flagged an attempted wire template created in her name this morning. That suggests someone had enough information to try to initiate a transfer.”

My father’s jaw clenched. “Are you accusing us?”

Green’s voice didn’t rise. “I’m stating facts. If you’re innocent, facts will clear you. If you’re not, facts will catch you.”

My mother’s eyes darted to my father like she wanted him to say the right thing, the saving thing.