He pulled out a stack of financial printouts, their edges slightly curled.

“Your father’s threats about the probate court aren’t just about Elliot’s estate,” Malcolm said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

He laid a document on the desk, pointing to a series of wire transfers highlighted in yellow.

I leaned forward, squinting at the small numbers under the dim desk lamp.

The names on the accounts were familiar.

They belonged to my mother and father.

But the sending entity was a holding company registered in Delaware.

“Who owns this holding company?” I asked.

“It took me four searches through the state registry to find the beneficial owner,” Malcolm said.

He looked up at me, his eyes dead serious.

“The owner is the parent corporation of Apex Logistics,” he said.

I stared at the paper, the cold in the room suddenly feeling much deeper.

“They’re working together,” I whispered.

“It’s worse than that,” Malcolm said. “Your parents aren’t just trying to get Elliot’s money.”

He flipped to the next page of the printouts, showing a balance sheet with red numbers at the bottom.