I held the small black device closer to my ear, my knuckles turning white.

“Tessa, if you are hearing this, it means I am gone, and you have finally opened the chest,” my father’s voice said.

The sound of his voice brought back the smell of his pipe tobacco and the old leather chairs in his study.

“I didn’t trust Grant from the moment you brought him home,” the recording continued.

“He asked too many questions about the estate, about the Langley trust, and about your military life insurance.”

General Vale shifted his weight near the door, his boots creaking on the linoleum floor.

Naomi leaned in, her notepad ready, her eyes fixed on the spinning digital counter on the screen.

“Two months ago, while you were deployed in Djibouti, I installed a small camera in the bookshelf of my study,” my father said.

“I caught him, Tessa.”

“I caught him going through my private desk drawers and copying my signature onto blank legal documents.”

I drew in a sharp breath, my hand automatically moving to my abdomen, where the stitches from the cesarean section burned.