Morning arrived slowly over the Vance estate.
The gardens outside Evelyn’s office windows were still covered in pale mist when she sat down at her desk. The house was quiet. Silas had already left for school, escorted by security, and the rest of the staff moved carefully through the halls as if sensing the tension lingering in the air.
The forensic report still rested open on her tablet.
She had read it three times the previous night.
Every sentence confirmed the same truth.
The document that destroyed her trust in Damian had been forged.
Digitally reconstructed. Artificial pressure replication. Algorithmic signature modeling.
The conclusion had been impossible to misunderstand.
Damian Blackwood never authorized the fire settlement closure.
Evelyn leaned back slowly in her chair,
