“You shouldn’t.”
That answer surprised me.
She wiped her cheek.
“But give it to your lawyer.”
Then she left.
Rachel called the next morning.
“Thomas.”
Her voice sounded strange.
“What?”
“That USB changes everything.”
Apparently, Karen had kept spreadsheets.
Passwords.
Scanned signatures.
Copies of financial documents.
Detailed transfer records.
There were even drafts of messages she had encouraged Mia to send to the family group chat.
But one folder stood out.
It was named:
TOM.
Inside were screenshots of conversations between Karen and someone saved only as D.
I assumed D meant Dad.
It didn’t.
Rachel wouldn’t explain over the phone.
“You need to come in.”
When I reached her office, Dad was already there.
He looked pale.
Rachel closed the door.
“This is going to be difficult.”
She placed printed messages on the table.
I read the first.
Then the second.
By the fifth, my hands were trembling.
