“You risked your life to go back into that room,” Alexander said to me.

“I promised her I would protect him,” I said, looking at Ethan.

“And you did,” Alexander said.

He turned to the sergeant.

“I want her protected,” Alexander said, gesturing toward me. “If Celeste is responsible for this, she will do anything to keep those papers from reaching a courtroom.”

“We will take custody of the documents immediately,” the sergeant said, placing the folder into a sterile plastic evidence bag.

Celeste watched the bag seal with a cold, unblinking glare.

“This is a mistake,” Celeste said, her voice completely devoid of emotion now. “You have no proof that the substance in those records is what killed her. Eleanor was sick for years.”

“We have the original autopsy tissue samples preserved in the city vault,” Alexander said.

He stepped closer to Celeste, his stature towering over her.

“I kept them because I never believed the official report,” Alexander said. “We will test them again. For this exact compound.”

Celeste’s composure cracked for the briefest moment.

Her eyes flicked toward the long, dark driveway that led to the main gates.