I set the phone down and leaned my forehead against my palms.

The air in the small kitchen felt thick and hard to breathe.

My father had lived his entire life in the shadow of this lie.

He had died in this modest house, working himself to the bone, while the King family lived in luxury off the empire he had helped create.

I looked at the cardboard box on the floor.

There were more files inside, older tax returns, and personal diaries.

I needed to secure them before Elias found a way to stop me.

I stood up and went to the hallway closet, pulling out a heavy canvas duffel bag.

I carefully packed the documents, wrapping them in a plastic bag to protect them from the damp weather outside.

Rain had begun to patter against the windowpane, a steady, gray drizzle that blurred the houses across the street.

My mind was racing.

I knew Elias would not come to the meeting empty-handed.

He would have his lawyers working through the night to find a way to invalidate whatever I had.

I needed a plan.