“She doesn’t know you have the ledger,” I said.

“She doesn’t know Derek helped us either,” Carl noted.

We sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the coming morning pressing down on us.

The radiators hissed again, a dry, metallic sound.

Outside, the Brooklyn traffic hummed in the cold night air.

A sudden, bright blue light flashed on the kitchen counter.

It was my phone.

The screen vibrated against the wood, buzzing twice.

I picked it up and tapped the glass.

It was a text message from an unknown number.

I opened the message.

There was a single photograph attached.

The image showed the interior of Carl’s old office on the first floor.

The metal safe in the corner of the room was wide open.

Documents were scattered all over the dark hardwood floor like spilled playing cards.

Below the photo, a short line of text appeared on the screen.

“She found the second ledger,” the text read.

I looked up at Carl, the blood draining from my face.

“Who is it?” Carl asked.

His eyes were fixed on my face.