“Hannah,” Jake whispered, brushing the snow off my shoulder. “Are you alright?”

“I’m okay,” I said, my voice barely audible over the idling engines of the SUVs.

Reyes walked over to us, his expression softening slightly.

“Mrs. Vance, Jake,” he said. “Do you have the items?”

I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out the small digital audio recorder.

My fingers were so cold I could barely grip it.

I also held out the thick manila envelope we had secured from the safe, containing the original trust documents and the forged death certificate.

“This is everything,” I said. “Walter’s voice is on here admitting to the forgery. And these are the real financial records.”

Reyes took the items with gloved hands.

“This is exactly what we needed,” Reyes said. “My team in the city has already secured the digital backups from the family office.”

He handed the envelope and the recorder to a marshal, who immediately placed them into a secure evidence bag.

Walter finally looked up, his voice cracking. “Those are private family documents. You have no right to take them.”