The morning sun streamed through the windows of George's Chicago apartment, casting warm light across the kitchen table where he sat with his coffee. The documents from Michael Kane were spread out before him, each one a piece of the puzzle that was his father's life. The confession. The letters. The financial records. All of it pointed to the same truth: Julian Blackwood was a murderer.
George had spent the entire night going through them again. Reading and re-reading every word. Trying to make sense of a man who'd spent his whole life lying and cheating and destroying lives. And yet, somehow, trying to make things right in his own twisted way.
Sam walked into the kitchen. She was dressed for work, her hair pulled back. She looked at George with concern.
"You didn't sleep again."
"I c
