“I am fine, Grandfather,” I said, holding the paper tight against my ribs.

Nathaniel Vale closed the heavy oak door behind them, shutting out the drafts from the hallway.

The room felt smaller now, crowded with years of secrets and old rain.

Julian did not look surprised to see them.

He stepped away from the window, his hands resting quietly in his trouser pockets.

“Thank you for coming, Elias,” Julian said.

Miranda whipped her head around to face her son, her eyes wide.

“What did you say?” she demanded, her voice cracking. “Julian, what is the meaning of this?”

Julian took a slow breath and looked at his mother.

“I called him,” Julian said simply.

“You called this old thief?” Miranda hissed, pointing a trembling finger at Elias.

“He is not a thief, Mother,” Julian said. “We are.”

The library fell silent, save for the rain drumming against the high glass windows.

I watched Julian, trying to read the calm expression on his face.

He had always been observant, but I had never expected this.

“I started looking into the offshore holding accounts six months ago,” Julian said.