(Hailey Miller's POV)
Dawn seeped through the blinds and painted pale stripes across the dining table, where papers lay like a small, chaotic city. Liam had taken charge of coordinating surveillance on Silas; I had taken possession of Ethan’s files. The same folders I’d thought I already knew now felt brittle with secrets I’d been too willing to ignore.
My fingers hovered over the columns—dates, amounts, account numbers—then began to follow them as if reading a line of music. Ethan had been precise to the point of obsession, which had always comforted me; now that precision was almost cruel. Patterns that had been invisible in the blur of grief resolved themselves into a hard, cold geometry.
“Look at this.” I tapped a sequence of transfers, and Liam moved in behind me. His presence was
