Marcus clicked the mouse.

The screen flickered for a second, and then a notification appeared: *Message Sent successfully.*

“It’s done,” Marcus said, leaning back in his leather chair. “The forensic team and the federal investigators have everything.”

“How long do they need?” I asked.

“They’ve been monitoring Ryan’s offshore activities for months,” Marcus said. “This was the missing piece.”

He tapped a yellow legal pad on his desk.

“They will verify the forgery report within the hour,” he added.

“And Ethan?” I asked. “He has the bank draft.”

“It’s a flagged instrument,” Marcus replied with a quiet smile. “If he attempts to deposit it or wire it, the system will trigger an immediate alert.”

I stood up and walked to the window, looking down at the grey New York streets below.

Yellow cabs crawled through the wet afternoon traffic.

Somewhere down there, Ethan was riding a wave of adrenaline, believing he had saved his family.

My phone buzzed on the desk behind me.

I turned and picked it up.

It was a text message from Ethan.

*Meeting at my mother’s house tomorrow at nine. Bring the final release documents.*