“She did it to protect what was left of our family,” I said. “Or to protect herself. I’m going to find out which.”

The screen flashed green.

*Decryption complete. Displaying root directory.*

A list of encrypted PDF files and bank ledger scans populated the screen.

I clicked on the folder labeled *Project Crash / External Assets*.

The first document was a scanned copy of a wire transfer receipt dated three days before my father’s death.

The sending account belonged to a shell corporation registered in the Cayman Islands.

The receiving signature at the bottom of the page was bold and familiar.

It was my sister’s handwriting.

Beside the signature was a digital scan of a high-resolution photograph.

It showed a dark mountain road, a silver Mercedes crumpled against a stone barrier, and a man in a dark coat walking away from the driver’s side.

I zoomed in on the man’s face.

Before I could process the image, the screen of the laptop flickered.

A small red light on the external drive began to pulse rapidly.

A pop-up window appeared over the files, block letters flashing in the center of the display.