The reflection of my pale face stared back at me in the glass.

I checked the clock on the wall.

It was 3:14 AM.

I took a deep breath, feeling the cold air of the room fill my chest.

My fingers were stiff as I gathered the old invoice and stuffed it into my coat pocket.

I walked down the quiet hallway, passing the nursery where June lay sleeping under the watchful eye of the night nurse I had hired.

I stood by her crib for a moment, listening to her soft, rhythmic breathing.

I promised myself I would finish this before she woke up.

I went down to the kitchen and dialed Lydia’s private number.

She answered on the third ring, her voice thick with sleep.

“Evelyn? Is everything all right?”

“I found the link,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Vivian paid Whitaker Consulting Group nine years ago.”

I heard the rustle of sheets as Lydia sat up.

“Nine years? That was before you even met Carter.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Sloane isn’t an accidental interloper. She was recruited.”