“Then what?”
Andre took a breath.
“First, we need to understand what happened to the original account.”
He opened another folder.
A spreadsheet appeared.
There were dates, amounts, account numbers, and transaction references.
Marcus leaned closer.
He recognized the figures.
A series of transfers had been made from Evelyn's savings account into a holding account.
From there, the money had moved into three different businesses.
Two were legitimate suppliers.
The third was a company called Northbridge Consulting.
Marcus frowned.
“I've never heard of that company.”
Andre looked at him.
“That's interesting.”
“What?”
“It's registered to an address that belongs to your business.”
Marcus stared.
“Which address?”
Andre read it aloud.
Marcus recognized it immediately.
The address of their old office.
The one they had used before moving into the new building.
“Daniel handled that office,” Marcus said.
“Did he have access to the company records?”
“Yes.”
“Did he have access to your mother's financial documents?”
Marcus hesitated.
“He helped me organize some things after she died.”
“Did you give him permission?”
“I don't remember.”
Andre nodded.
“That's something we need to establish.”
Marcus ran a hand through his hair.
“This is insane.”
Danielle moved closer.
“Marcus, there's something else.”
He looked at her.
“What?”
She reached into her handbag and pulled out a small photograph.
It showed Evelyn sitting in a hospital room.
Her face was thinner than Marcus remembered. Her hair was wrapped in a blue scarf, and she was smiling weakly at the camera.
Marcus took it.
“Where did you get this?”
“Your mother gave it to me.”
“When?”
“Two weeks before she died.”
Marcus looked at her sharply.
“You visited her?”
“Yes.”
“Without telling me?”
“You were working.”
“I visited her every day.”
“I know.”
“Then why would she need to see you privately?”
Danielle looked down.
“Because she wanted to talk about something she didn't want you to hear.”
Marcus stared.
“What?”
“She told me she was afraid.”
“Of what?”
Danielle took a breath.
“She was afraid that someone close to you would hurt you if you discovered the truth.”
Marcus's expression changed.
“Did she say Daniel?”
“No.”
“Did she say anyone?”
“She didn't give me a name.”
“Then why are you telling me this now?”
“Because she asked me to remember something.”
“What?”
Danielle looked directly at him.
“She told me that if anyone ever accused me of signing documents I had never seen, I should look at the date.”
Marcus frowned.
“What date?”
“The date your mother died.”
He looked at the photograph.
Then at the documents.
Then back at Danielle.
“What does that mean?”
Danielle reached for the photocopy of the property transfer.
She pointed to the signature.
“Look at the date.”
Marcus leaned forward.
The transfer had been submitted eleven days ago.
But the witness statement referred to a document allegedly signed three years earlier.
On the day Evelyn died.
Marcus stared.
“That's impossible.”
“Exactly,” Danielle said.
“I was at the hospital.”
“So was I.”
Andre nodded.
“And Daniel was listed as the person who delivered the paperwork.”
Marcus felt his stomach turn.
He remembered that day.
He remembered sitting in a hospital corridor, holding his mother's hand.
He remembered Daniel arriving with coffee.
He remembered Daniel telling him that everything would be okay.
He remembered signing something.
But he couldn't remember what.
“Where is the original document?” he asked.
Andre opened another folder.
“That's what we're trying to locate.”
Marcus looked at him.
“Who has it?”
“The attorney's office believes it may be in the company's archive.”
“Then we'll go there.”
“Not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because someone may already know we're looking.”
Marcus shook his head.
“I don't care.”
“You should.”
Andre's voice had become firmer.
“If the person who moved the money realizes that the evidence has been found, they may destroy whatever remains.”
Marcus looked at the USB drive.
Then at the letter.
Then at the photograph of his mother.
He suddenly felt exhausted.
“Why did she leave this to you?” he asked Andre.
Andre didn't answer immediately.
Finally, he said, “Because she believed I would tell you the truth even if you hated me for it.”
Marcus stared at him.
“Did she know you were my girlfriend's ex?”
“Yes.”
“And she still trusted you?”
Andre nodded.
“She told me that being someone's former boyfriend didn't make me a former human being.”
Danielle gave a small, sad smile.
Marcus looked away.
He didn't know what to do with that.
He didn't know whether he was more upset about the evidence or the fact that his mother had trusted someone else to protect him.
And he didn't know why Danielle had stayed involved when she could have walked away.
“Why did you come?” he asked her.
She looked at him.
“Because your mother asked me to.”
“That's it?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Danielle's voice softened.
“Because I loved her too.”
Marcus looked down.
He had no answer.
At 1:17 a.m., the three of them were still in the bedroom.
The anger that had filled the room when Marcus first entered had gradually been replaced by a heavy, uncomfortable silence.
Andre was reviewing documents on his laptop.
Danielle sat in the chair near the window.
Marcus stood by the dresser, staring at the envelope.
He had read the letter several times.
Each time, he discovered a sentence that hurt more than the last.
His mother had known.
She had known something was wrong, and she had spent her final months trying to understand how far it went.
He remembered her asking him whether he was happy.