Inside were green hanging folders, neatly labeled by year.

I quickly flipped through the tabs until I found one labeled *C.S.D. Restructuring – Confidential*.

My hands trembled slightly as I pulled the thick manila folder out.

I opened it on top of the desk.

The first page was a letter on official bank stationery, dated two weeks before I signed over my inheritance.

It was addressed to Daniel from Richard.

I read the first sentence: *The offshore ledger is secured; we can now proceed with the declaration of insolvency.*

“Looking for something, Emily?”

The voice came from the doorway behind me.

I froze, the paper still clutched in my hand.

I turned slowly.

Richard Carter stood in the doorframe, his hands resting on the silver handle of his walking cane.

His face was entirely devoid of its usual warm, grandfatherly smile.

He stepped into the room and closed the heavy oak door behind him.

The latch clicked shut in the quiet space.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” Richard said, his voice low and steady.

“I was just looking for some old tax documents,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.