But the house does not live by promissory notes alone. On the second day after Angel returned—jet-lagged but luminous—an unexpected complication arrived via a polite, professional call. A legacy donor, an influential man who’d supported the foundation quietly for years, had been approached by a journalist with a query about Angel’s time away years ago—an old contract dispute with an NGO abroad that the journalist was gleefully reshaping into a narrative of mismanagement. The donor’s voice was uncertain; the conversation had been clipped. The donor wanted reassurance.
Angel took the call pale and taut. I watched her—she wore loyalty in her jaw—and it made a small ache thrash in my chest. Conley’s reaction was clean: legal ready, PR ready, a plan to show documentation. The leak, even now wh
