HELEN IS IN THE SUB-BASEMENT ARCHIVES WITH A CAN OF LIGHTER FLUID AND THE LEDGERS, Dina had written. SECURITY IS STANDING GUARD FOR HER.

I showed the screen to Marcus.

His jaw tightened as he read the words, his fingers gripping the edge of the mahogany table.

“She’s burning the paper trail,” Marcus said, his voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

“Not if we stop her,” Lorna said, her sharp eyes scanning my phone.

Grant laughed, a dry, rattling sound that made me shiver.

“The old files are paper, Emma,” Grant said, taking a step toward the window. “No paper, no case.”

“We have digital backups of every transaction from the last five years, Grant,” Arthur Bell said, his voice flat and steady.

Arthur adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, looking at Grant with nothing but cold professional detachment.

“And those backups are stored on an off-site cloud server that your mother couldn’t touch if she tried,” Arthur added.

The smell of smoke grew stronger, drifting through the dark vents above us.

A fire alarm began to wail down the hallway, its shrill beep cutting through the sound of the rain against the glass.