Adrian's POV
I started on Sunday morning.
Not because Sunday was the right day for it. Because Saturday night I had sat in my hotel room in Philadelphia with the malachite on the nightstand and Noah's voice still in my head explaining the difference between fool's gold and real gold and understood that I was not going to sleep until I had started pulling at the thread Amara had pointed me toward.
Start with the hospital. Start with the night the report was delivered.
I started there.
The report had been delivered to me on a Tuesday morning five years ago. My mother had brought it to my study at the mansion, which was the first thing I had not examined carefully enough at the time. Not Thorne. Not a medical courier. Not the hospital directly.
My mother.
Hand delivered.
By a woman wh
