Fine dust seemed to dance under the dimming glow of the desk lamp in the small downstairs office. The room no longer radiated the grandeur of the Thorne Family. Now, every corner was filled with piles of blood-red papers—seizure notices, bank warnings, and eviction notices that seemed to grind the remnants of the family’s dignity into the dirt. Mr. Thorne sat in his rickety wooden chair, his head bowed until it touched the table. In his hand, he held a phone with a cracked screen—Jasper Wang’s personal phone, which had been delivered by an anonymous courier just hours ago. "NO! THIS IS IMPOSSIBLE!" Martha wailed from the corner of the room, her face swollen from crying all day. "We have to call Mr. Xander again! There must be a mistake! How could our family be considered involved with the
