Harris walked over to the metal table and leaned his hands on the polished surface.

“We have about two hours before a judge signs the temporary restraining order,” he said.

“If they sign it, I have to seal this drive.”

“Then we have to decrypt everything right now,” I said.

I opened the laptop fully and turned it toward him.

“Victoria paid off a clinic in Zurich,” I said.

“She didn’t just hide her son’s death to avoid a family scandal.”

“She faked his survival to keep the cousins from inheriting the estate.”

Harris leaned in, his eyes scanning the translated German document.

“This is a handwritten authorization from Victoria Callahan,” he murmured.

“The ink match will take time, but the signature is distinct.”

“Look at the date,” I said.

It was dated exactly three days before Julian Vance registered his new identity in California.

“She had the replacement ready before the body was even cold,” I said.

I clicked on a sub-folder labeled *CH-880*.

It required a password.

I pulled out my small paper notebook.