“A folder labeled ‘Project Sun,'” Leo said. “And several offshore account spreadsheets.”

My phone buzzed again in my hand.

It was a text message from an unknown number.

I opened it.

It was an image.

A photograph of me sitting in the diner last week, taken through a window.

Underneath the photo was a single line of text: *Drop the charges, Elena. You aren’t strong enough for what comes next.*

I showed the screen to Marisol.

Her face hardened.

“They are watching you,” she said quietly.

“Is it Derek?” I asked, my voice shaking. “He’s in custody.”

“He has friends,” Marisol said. “Or Vance is playing very dirty.”

“I’m not dropping the charges,” I said, trying to find the strength in my own voice. “He ruined my life. He nearly let me die.”

“We need to go to the bank,” Marisol said. “We have the key. I will draft an emergency motion to preserve the contents of that box.”

“Can we do that before Vance stops us?”

“We have to try,” Marisol said.

She grabbed her purse and her keys.

We walked back to the elevator in silence.