“Listen—the best part is that you can help me. We can do this together. Joe found out that the wealthy buyer has a numbered account through Stevenson and Sons—his funds are through your company.”

“I know.” He opened his eyes and looked across the table at the wall, not at her.

“You know what?”

“That he has his funding through my company.”

The table tilted.

Molly cut her steak. “Wow, Dad, now you can tell us who it is.”

“No, I can’t.”

“How long have you known about the buyer?” Amy whispered, her disappointment becoming nausea.

“Since the beginning. It’s client privilege. There is no way I could give you his name, even if I knew it, which I don’t.”

“You could find out. I know you could find out.”

“Yes, I could, but I won’t. Didn’t you hear me? It’s client privilege. There’s a reason he has a number and not a name.”

“Yeah, so he can ruin a natural treasure.” She stood up.

“No, it’s so he doesn’t have TV crews at his door, his name smeared for wanting to build a vacation home. That’s why.”

“If he knew—if we could tell him how precious the island and house are, then maybe he’d stop.”

“I just can’t.”

She turned away. “What am I going to tell the OWP and Nick? I already told them you’d help—I was sure you would. . . .”

“What does Nick have to do with it?”

“Remember I told you he’s helping us—he went with us out to the island. He’s the one who found the endangered plant.”

“No, you did not tell me that.”

“Yes, I did. I told you after I cut my finger. I told you all about the trip and—”

“I remember the trip. I don’t remember Nick.”

“That’s because you never listen to me.”

Molly and Jack looked at each other and quietly got up from the table. Amy couldn’t remember if she and Phil had ever had a disagreement in front of the kids.

“Okay, that would be an exaggeration. Let’s be rational here.”

She did not want to be rational. “What do you want me to tell them? That my husband won’t help us?”

“Why don’t you tell them that I won’t sacrifice client privilege? Honey, you understand, don’t you? You agree, right?”

She had always carefully padded her words with Phil to avoid fighting—but now she spoke exactly what she meant to say. “No, I do not agree.”

She couldn’t look at him when she said it. She stood and began to walk out of the room, but turned as she reached the door. She spoke to the back of his head. “I thought there was a way for us to . . . do this together. For you to help. For us to—”