Hannah knelt.
“Which one?”
He tapped twice.
She opened another section.
Pulled out an envelope.
Inside was a memory card.
A folded note.
And a bank statement.
I picked up the statement.
Walter Carter.
Personal investment account.
Balance six months earlier.
$4,814,000.
Current balance.
$92,000.
I stared.
“What?”
Hannah said nothing.
I turned pages.
Withdrawals.
Transfers.
Wire payments.
Many went to an entity called MC Advisory Group.
MC.
Melissa Carter.
My chest tightened.
“How long have you had this?”
“Three weeks.”
“Where did you get it?”
“Your father.”
I looked at him.
His eyes filled.
He nodded.
I whispered.
“Dad.”
He pointed toward himself.
Then made writing motions.
Hannah explained.
“After the stroke, he could still write with his left hand.”
“Not well.”
“But enough.”
She took out a notebook.
The handwriting was shaky.
Some words barely readable.
Melissa took account.
Changed phone.
No care.
Victor knows.
Ethan wrong.
Find Hannah.
I stared at the page.
Then looked at Hannah.
“Why your name?”
She smiled sadly.
“Because I was the only person who believed him before the stroke.”
My heartbeat changed.
“What does Victor know?”
Hannah sat.
For the first time, she looked as exhausted as she must have felt for months.
“Sit down.”
I didn’t.
She shrugged.
“Fine.”
Then she told me.
Three years earlier, Hannah had not
