Ethan capped the vial and sealed it inside a biohazard bag.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

We walked back out into the hallway, closing the door behind us.

The air in the corridor felt heavier now, charged with a secret we could not undo.

“I will have a private courier pick this up at dawn,” Ethan said.

“And what do we do until then?” I asked.

“We wait,” Ethan said. “And we keep out of my uncle’s sight.”

He looked toward the grand staircase that led to the corporate offices on the third floor.

“Richard has been trying to force a buyout of my father’s shares,” Ethan said. “He needs control of the board.”

“Why now?” I asked.

“Because he knows my father left loose ends,” Ethan said. “He knows about the Swiss accounts.”

I remembered the way Richard looked at me whenever he visited the estate.

His eyes were always cold, assessing, like a predator watching its prey.

He had threatened to have my grandmother deported if I ever spoke a word about that night.

“Your uncle is a dangerous man, Ethan,” I said, my voice barely audible.