Then, my father’s voice filled the room, sounding distant and tired.

“Emily,” my father’s voice said. “If you are hearing this, I am no longer here to protect you or your mother.”

I closed my eyes, the sound of his voice hitting me like a physical blow.

“Rachel has allied herself with someone very powerful,” the recording continued. “Someone who wants the trust money for their own political ambitions.”

The static flared, cutting off the next few words.

“I have hidden the master key to the Geneva account in the family bible at the cabin,” my father said. “Do not trust anyone who promises to help you find it. Especially not—”

The tape suddenly cut to a high-pitched whine.

The machine clicked, and the reel stopped spinning.

“That is all?” Alexander asked. “It cut off.”

“The tape has been magnetically damaged,” Alaric said, examining the deck. “Deliberately, I suspect.”

“But he was going to name someone,” I said.

I looked down at the paper that had been in the envelope with the tape.

It was a bank ledger, showing a secondary transfer of five million dollars from the Carter trust to an offshore account.