We walked for an hour.
We did not discuss Preston, Allison, or financial records.
At the parking lot Rachel thanked me for letting the evening be simple.
I told her I had needed it too.
A week later we returned to the evidence with clearer heads.
The walk had not solved anything.
It had reminded us that a case could occupy much of a life without being entitled to every part of it.
Chapter 35: The Library Roof
My first project with the nonprofit involved repairing a small library roof after years of water damage.
The building served a neighborhood where families used the reading room for homework, job applications, and quiet afternoons.
Its director, Mrs.
Bell, had been asking for repairs for two years.
She showed me buckets placed beneath stains in the ceiling.
One shelf had been moved because rainwater threatened the children’s books.
I prepared a schedule with local contractors and included a plain-language explanation of every cost.
Mrs.
Bell read it carefully.
She asked whether the payment system would protect the workers if a donor withdrew funding.
I explained our verified reserve and the separate approval process.
Her question reminded me how widely the stories of missing payments had traveled.
People now saw money controls as part of building safety, not as an invisible matter handled by accountants.
During construction I spent an afternoon helping cover the books while a ceiling panel was removed.
A child asked why grown-ups waited so long to fix leaks.
I said sometimes people disagreed about priorities, and sometimes they failed to notice how serious a problem had become.
The child said water did not care about disagreements.
I told him he was right.
When the repairs were finished, the director held a small reopening event.
There were no speeches about my recovery.
Children returned to the tables with their homework.
The roof kept out the rain.
That seemed like the right definition of success.
Chapter 36: Allison’s Account
Allison called me after the hearing.
She said she wanted to tell me something before Preston used it against her.
She asked to meet in a public place.
We sat at opposite ends of a booth in a coffee shop where neither of us was known.
She brought a notebook filled with dates.
She had begun writing down every occasion Preston had asked her to approve vendor changes, handle expense reports, or log in from a device she did not recognize.
She remembered a hotel in Indianapolis, a conference in Cincinnati, and an office meeting on the night my father’s surgery.
