She pointed to a line on the screen.

It was a transfer of five million dollars from the Whitmore family trust.

But it wasn’t paid to a doctor.

It was paid to an offshore account.

“Margaret,” Richard said quietly.

“She didn’t just bribe a doctor.”

“She has been stealing from her own family’s trust for years.”

Nora clicked another file, and a series of scanned ledger pages appeared.

“Thomas Vale kept everything,” Nora said, her voice filled with awe.

“Every single transfer.”

“He has duplicate records of every dollar she took.”

I stared at the numbers, the reality of what we were looking at slowly sinking in.

But before Nora could open the next file, the quiet of the morning was shattered.

A sudden, sharp knock sounded at the front door.

We all froze.

It was barely six-thirty in the morning.

The sun had not yet risen.

Richard stood up slowly, his hand going to his pocket.

He walked toward the foyer, and I followed, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Through the glass pane of the front door, I could see a dark figure standing in the gray light.