Frederick sat in his home, staring at his hands, trying to process what Helen Park had told him before she died. His mother. His own mother had been running the conspiracy all along. His mother had been the puppet master, the person orchestrating events from behind the scenes, the person who had been manipulating Marcus and Helena and Jonathan and everyone else involved in the conspiracy.
It was impossible. It was incomprehensible. Frederick's mother was a kind woman, a gentle woman, a woman who had spent her entire life dedicated to charity work and to helping others. Frederick's mother could not possibly be the person running a criminal conspiracy.
But even as Frederick was denying the possibility, he was also remembering things that should have been obvious to him years ago. He was re
