I stare at my grandfather as I sink slowly back into the visitor's chair across from his desk.

"No, you don't mean that. You're the most honest, ethical lawyer I've ever met. The things Dylan put in that slide show can't be true."

"I'm afraid they are, Hadley. I've spent the past two decades of my legal practice trying to make up for the mistakes I made in the first two decades."

It's just not computing in my brain. I can't be hearing what I think I'm hearing.

"No, you left when you found out what Bennett was involved in."

He shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, Hadley. I never intended for any of this to touch you."

"The things Dylan described. Bribing politicians, Not only locally but at the state level. Buying votes on the zoning commission, the planning board. Threatening competitors, Working with subcontractors who were controlled by the mob. People who opposed Maxwell Bennett suddenly withdrawing their bids. Or in some cases . . . disappearing.

"No, you couldn't have been a part of that, not knowingly. I don't believe it." Hot tears are welling in my eyes, whether from anger or sorrow I'm not sure. Part of me is still clinging to the hope that I'm misunderstanding what he's telling me.

Part of me already knows I'm not.

"Hadley," he says gently. "It didn't start out that way. It never does. But you can't represent a man like Maxwell Bennett for 20 years and not understand what he is and what his business is. You draw a line on what you will be a part of what you won't, what you'll do and what you won't do, and then over the years the line just keeps moving, a little at a time."

"Until there isn't any line anymore," I say, my voice sounding flat and cold. My whole body feels numb and there's this sort of buzzing in my ears. I shake my head slightly to clear it.

"Well, not much of a line. I don't know how to explain it, Hadley, other than it just gets easier to ignore it. To tell yourself that the end result - the development, the real estate market, the growth and prosperity, the shiny new office towers - that it was good for Miami. That it didn't matter how many corners you cut, how many dirty tricks you played to make it all move forward more smoothly, faster. You tell yourself everyone is doing it, and that you'd be a fool not to do business in the way that had become accepted as a fact of life. Pay-offs to union officials, greasing the wheels with local politicians, affecting state elections by pouring money from outside the state into the right candidates' pockets."

"You told me you built this firm on ethics and integrity, and that you settle for nothing less from our lawyers and our clients," I say dully. "And now you're telling me it was all a lie."

"Not a lie, Hadley, just not the whole truth. That is the way I've run the firm for past 20 years, ever since I parted ways with Maxwell Bennett."

"But you still protected him."

"Yes, I protected him and I protected myself and my family. I'd be a hypocrite to turn on the man who was responsible for me building this firm in the first place. I couldn't in good conscience betray him or leave him vulnerable to Gino and the New York and New Jersey mafia when I'd helped him engage in unethical and illegal practices in the first place. But I also couldn't do business with him anymore. I had to make a clean break."

In good conscience, I want to shout at him - how can he even use the term "good conscience" after what he's been telling me? I take a deep breath. I just want to stay calm and get through this conversation, and go . . . I don't know where. Anywhere but here.

"I made a clean break from Bennett and every business he had his finger in," Andrew says again.

"Right." My voice comes out bitter. "When you found out about the child who died."

"So you know about that."

I raise my head, look him in the eyes again. "That's what it took? A child dying?"

He doesn't answer me directly. His voice seems to come from far away, and I feel a pain behind my eyes that's threatening to turn into a migraine.

"Your father was working in the firm that summer, and continued to work there part time during his last year of law school. Looking at him was like looking at what I had been when I was just graduating law school and starting my first job. Full of ideals and plans, going to change the world with his law degree. Balking a little at working for what he saw as a law firm that catered to big corporations and greedy developers. He wanted to go into law in the nonprofit sector. But I convinced him that you could do as much good - maybe more - from the inside, working to make corporations more socially responsible. I told him he could set up a philanthropic arm of the firm and launch a lobbying initiative to use our reputation and influence to effect changes in social justice."

He turns to gaze out the window for a moment, taking in the panoramic view of the Miami skyline, but maybe not even seeing it at all. Then he turns back to me, his eyes seeming to plead for understanding.

"I know it was selfish of me. Your mother had no interest at all in becoming a lawyer. I needed someone who I could pass on to everything I built."

"Everything you built on a foundation of corruption and lies." The words come out sharp and I can see the blow land.

He nods, sits back in his chair and folds his arms. "I certainly deserve that, and more. But this was years ago, before you were even born, Hadley. I changed. For more than two decades this firm has been built on the principles of integrity and fair play, and it's flourished. I'm proud of the past almost 25 years, the work we've done and what the firm has become. That's your legacy, not the things we were doing in the 1980's and 90's. It was a different time, a different town."

I look at him incredulously. "Are you actually trying to justify it?"

"No," he says. "Not justify it. It was wrong. And I knew it was wrong, but I closed my eyes to that. Then Brandon started coming to me with questions. Why was I representing companies that were connected with Maxwell Bennett? Hadn't I heard the rumors about him? Why were our families so close socially? Hadley, there was a lot of speculation in the media at that time about Maxwell Bennett's connections to organized crime, but no one had come right out and accused him." He gives a short laugh. "They were afraid to, if I'm honest about it. People who criticized Maxwell Bennett in the media had a habit of disappearing."

"So what did you tell my father?"

He shrugs. "I did a lot of dancing around the issue, backpedaling, spouting off about people being innocent until proven guilty and not to believe rumors spread by jealous business rivals." He shakes his head. "For a while Brandon believed me. I think he wanted to believe me. And at that time I was already planning on pulling back. I was getting less and less comfortable about Bennett's business practices and the role I was playing in them. And I really didn't like Bennett getting in bed with mobsters from out of state who wanted to infiltrate the illegal drug trade in Miami. So I started documenting things, coming up with I guess you would call it insurance for when I got out."

"You were afraid Maxwell Bennett would turn on you if you no longer represented him."

"No, never that. We were friends. Very good friends. I knew he'd let me go, and he knew I'd never do anything to help the local police or the FBI - they were after him already, but hadn't been able to make anything stick. No, it was the people he was dealing with from out of state - the New York and New Jersey mafia families - that's who I was worried about."

"Gino," I say.

"Yes, Gino, and others like him. Gino himself was just a young up-and-comer back then. And taking over the drug trade in Miami was his ticket to moving up in the organization, at least at that time. But there were rivals. His wasn't the only mob organization trying to move into the gap left by the Columbian drug cartels."

He sighs. "Your dad kept poking at me, going through old files and asking me questions about deals the firm had handled. And I kept lying to him. I just needed a little more time and I could get out of all of that dirty business and be assured that I could also keep my family safe."

His jaw sags a little and he seems lost in his memories, suddenly looking every bit his age. But right now the last thing I'm able to feel is sympathy for him.

"And then the drive-by shooting happened," I prompt him.

"And then the drive-by shooting happened. Gino hired a local gang to put pressure on the rivals, and they retaliated through their own people. It turned into a shootout right on the streets of Miami, and that little girl and her mother got caught in the crossfire. That was the end for me. I went to the meeting at the Bennett Estate, and I told them I was done and they were done too, because if they continued this plan I would turn everything over to the feds. And believe me, I had the goods."

"I'm surprised they didn't just kill you right then."

"Gino would have liked to, but I had things set up so that if I didn't walk out of that meeting everything was going to the FBI."

"Even implicating Max's father?"

"No, I protected his involvement. But I had no loyalty to Gino and his organization. Especially not after he caused it to escalate to the point that innocent people were dying."

"And they took you seriously and pulled out."

"Yes. I came home that day and told your grandmother everything. I'm not sure how much she already knew. Certainly not the full extent of it.

"I always tried to keep her separate from my business, and Maxwell and I never talked business in front of Tricia and Nora. Nora hated that Maxwell and his brother were running a criminal enterprise, but she loved Maxwell. Tricia was the one who got Nora accepted into Miami society and gave Maxwell a foothold there because of Tricia's deep family roots in that world. Me, I was just some upstart lawyer with no pedigree."

He shakes his head. "And beyond that, well, money opens a lot of doors to social acceptance. I helped Maxwell endow a few chairs and donate a few buildings, and the next thing you knew he was on the boards of charitable foundations, and Nora was on committees planning galas with your grandmother."

"And then you told Laura and Brandon," I say, trying to get him back on track.

"Yes, that same evening. The disillusionment on Brandon's face broke my heart as he realized the extent of what I'd done and how I'd lied to him to hide it. He'd believed in me, and already started to see the future and the good he could do from the law firm. I shattered everything that day."

"This is why he dropped out of law school, why he hates you so much. I thought it was the thing about him asking for money for the cancer treatments later, but that was only part of it."

"You're right. Years later, when your mother was dying, it had to take so much from him to humble himself and come begging to me - the person he completely despised - for money. It's a testament to how much he loved your mother."

"So you told them everything that night."

"Yes. Brandon just sat there, listening to everything. Your grandmother and your mother were crying, but Brandon just sat there staring at me. When I was done, he stood up and he said he would never set foot in the house or the law firm again. And he told Laura she had to choose. She chose him, and they walked out the door together.

"The next day he dropped out of law school and they eloped. I never saw or spoke to him again until he come to ask us for help paying for the cancer treatments."

All this time I've been thinking my father's judgment of my grandfather was too harsh.

"He never told me."

"No, I don't suppose he would. Part of the guilt I carry with me - and there's a lot of it - is that by my actions and by lying to him, I ruined a promising young law student's career before it even started. Your father would have made a great lawyer, Hadley, a far better one than me."

"My father hates lawyers."

"I'm sorry," he says, and I don't ask if he means for the part about my father or for all of it. It doesn't really matter.

"I have to go now," I tell him. The headache that was trying to catch hold during the whole conversation is now throbbing. I feel like there's not enough air in the room.

"What are you going to do?" He looks at me and I can read his thoughts in his eyes. He's wondering if, like my father before me, I'm now going to walk out of the law firm and his life. To be honest, I don't know what I'm going to do.

"I just know that I can't come back to the house tonight."

"Where will you be?" He frowns. "With Max?"

"Max and I broke up. So no, not with Max."

"Will you be coming to work tomorrow?"

"I'll let you know what I decide. That's the best I can do right now."

He nods. "Then that will have to be good enough. Hadley, I'm so sorry."

"Yeah. I know."

I walk out of the door of my grandfather's office without a clue what happens next.