“I’m not sure. The original documents were stored in a safe deposit box. The bank informed me that access had been transferred to another attorney several years ago.””

“Who?””

He hesitated.

“Victoria’s attorney.””

I felt a coldness spread through my chest.

“My stepmother has my mother’s documents?””

“Possibly.””

“Then I want them back.””

Peter studied me for a long moment.

“Eleanor, before you do anything, I need to ask you something. Has anyone in your household been giving your father medication that he hasn’t personally discussed with his doctor?””

I thought of the bottle on the terrace.

“Yes.””

“Do you know what it is?””

“I took a photograph.””

He exhaled slowly.

“Send it to me. Don’t confront Victoria until we understand what we’re dealing with.””

“Why?””

“Because if your mother was right, Victoria isn’t simply trying to control your father’s money.””

He lowered his voice.

“She may be trying to prevent him from remembering something.””

I left the building with his business card in my pocket and a thousand questions in my head.

On the drive back, I called my friend Hannah, a forensic accountant who had helped me investigate suspicious transactions at work.

“Hannah, I need a favor.””

“You sound like someone just found a body.””

“Not yet.””

“That’s not funny, Ellie.””

I explained the situation, including the medication, the hospital bracelet, and the financial documents I had seen in my father’s library.

Hannah went quiet.

Then she asked, “Do you have access to your father’s company records?””

“Not anymore. Victoria controls most of the family business.””

“Then start with the public filings. If there’s money missing, there will be traces.””

I spent the next four hours in a coffee shop reviewing corporate records.

By late afternoon, I found something that made my stomach turn.

Over the previous six years, more than $18 million had been transferred from Bennett Holdings into a network of companies registered in Delaware and the Cayman Islands.

The transfers had been approved by my father.

Or, more accurately, they had been approved using his electronic signature.

I compared the dates with the medical records I could find publicly and with the dates of several major family events.

Almost every large transfer had occurred within days of a documented hospital visit or medication change.

Someone had been moving money while my father was vulnerable.

But there was another problem.

One of the companies receiving the money was registered under the name Catherine Bennett.

My mother’s name.

I stared at the screen until the letters blurred.

If she was dead, who had created that company?

And why was someone still using her name?

I printed the records, folded them into my bag, and drove home.

The mansion was unusually quiet when I arrived.

Madison was in the kitchen, pouring champagne into a crystal flute even though it was barely five in the afternoon.

She wore a silk robe and diamond earrings that looked suspiciously familiar.

“Where have you been?”” she asked.

“Out.””

“Victoria has been looking for you.””

“Then she knows where my phone is.””

Madison took a sip.

“You really think you’re clever, don’t you?””

“I think you’re drinking champagne alone in the kitchen on a Tuesday afternoon.””

Her face tightened.

“Don’t talk to me like that.””

“Then stop speaking to me like I’m a child.””

She slammed the glass onto the counter.

“Dad is sick because of you.””

I blinked.

“What?””

“You came back, started asking questions, and now he’s barely sleeping. Victoria says you’re upsetting him.””

“Victoria says a lot of things.””

Madison stepped closer.

“You have no idea what she sacrificed for this family.””

“What did she sacrifice?””

Madison opened her mouth, then closed it.

For a moment, something resembling guilt crossed her face.

Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out the hospital bracelet I had found the previous day.

She tossed it into the sink.

“You should forget your mother.””

I retrieved the bracelet.

“Why are you so afraid of a piece of plastic?””

“Because you don’t know what you’re looking for!””

The words burst out of her before she could stop them.

We stared at each other.

Then Madison began to cry.

Not delicate tears. Not the kind she used when she wanted Dad to buy her something.

Her shoulders shook, and she pressed both hands against her mouth.

“I didn’t know,” she whispered.

“Didn’t know what?””

She looked toward the doorway.

“Please, Ellie. I can’t.””

“Can’t what?””

She grabbed my wrist.

“If you find the envelope, don’t open it in this house.””

A floorboard creaked behind us.

Victoria stood in the doorway, holding a leather handbag.

Her eyes moved from Madison’s hand on my wrist to the bracelet in mine.

“Madison,” she said softly, “go upstairs.””

Madison released me immediately.

“Mom—”

“Now.””

Madison fled.

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