Calla’s POV
I looked up Ford Calloway’s career history at two in the morning. By three, I had found the first gap, and by four I understood exactly what Cara had died knowing.
I was sitting cross-legged on the study floor with my back against the desk and documents spread around me in three rings — public financial filings on the outside, Cara’s internal memos in the middle, and my own notes on a yellow legal pad I’d bought two towns over and paid for in cash. No trail. I was learning to think in trails.
The gap was eleven years old and fourteen months long. Ford left a London investment firm in March, and his name didn’t appear in any filing, registry, press mention, or board record until he arrived at Alderton Industries seventeen months later as chief financial advisor. For a man who
