The past rarely stayed buried.
It waited.
Patient. Silent. Watching for the moment someone dared to look back.
Damian Blackwood stood inside a dim conference room converted into a temporary investigation hub on the top floor of Blackwood Tower. The blinds were half drawn, muting the morning light into pale gray strips across stacks of documents spread over the table.
This was not an official company inquiry.
No board authorization.
No legal oversight.
Only truth.
Across from him sat Julian Grant, his longtime private investigator, a man whose loyalty had survived three corporate wars and countless scandals.
Grant slid a tablet forward.
“I pulled everything still recoverable from municipal archives,” he said. “Fire department logs, hospital security reports, emergency dispatch tim
