I began to flip through the pages, looking at the dates written at the top of each entry.

“What is it, Natalie?” Eleanor asked from the sofa.

“I’m looking at the timeline,” I said.

The entries started in October, seventeen years ago.

The last entry was dated three days before my father’s fatal car crash.

I stared at the numbers.

The date of the last transaction at the Richmond warehouse was clearly marked.

My phone on the table suddenly buzzed, the screen lighting up.

It was an incoming call from an unknown number.

I picked it up and swiped the screen.

“Colonel Richards,” I said.

“Natalie,” a voice said.

It was General Marcus Avery.

“Sir,” I said, straightening my spine.

“I need you to listen to me carefully,” Avery said.

His voice was low, strained, as if he were speaking from a secure line in a crowded room.

“I just got off the phone with the Pentagon,” he said.

“Gregory’s already made his move.”

“What did he do?” I asked, my heart stopping.

“He’s filed a formal inquiry into your commission,” Avery said.