The cardboard was cool and dry.

“She didn’t tell us she was filing a separate affidavit,” Lena said, stepping closer.

I tore the tab on the back of the envelope and pulled out the thick stack of papers.

The top page was stamped with a red seal.

As my eyes scanned the first few lines of the text, my hand stopped moving.

The rain continued to beat against the glass behind me, but the room suddenly felt entirely different.

I looked up at Lena, the paper rustling in my grip.

What is it?” Lena asked, leaning over the mahogany table.

I held the document under the brass lamp.

“Blaire didn’t just document the corporate fraud,” I said.

“She kept the personal ledgers.”

Lena took the page from my hand.

The paper crinkled in the quiet room.

“These are the routing numbers for the Swiss accounts,” Lena said, her eyes moving rapidly down the page.

“And the signatures,” I said.

“Margaret signed as the primary guarantor.”

“Using Darrow House as the collateral for the second loan,” Lena added.

She looked up, her eyes sharp behind her glasses.