to exaggerate.

The evidence was already disturbing enough.

Then he asked whether Mara had stored anything elsewhere.

At first, I said no.

Then I remembered the hospital.

It was the afternoon before she lost consciousness.

I had been allowed into her room for ten minutes because Adrian went home to shower.

Mara woke briefly.

Her lips were dry.

Her voice was barely audible.

“You still have Dad’s blue suitcase?” she asked.

I assumed she was delirious.

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“In the basement storage room.”

She smiled faintly.

“Keep it where winter never comes.”

I thought she was confused.

Now I understood.

The suitcase was stored beside the boiler room in my apartment basement.

Warm even in January.

I told Grant.

His expression changed immediately.

“We go together.”

We left through the underground garage while bank security monitored the street.

Grant insisted I ride with the investigators.

On the way, my phone buzzed.

Adrian again.

You always were slower than Mara.

I showed Grant.

“Do not respond.”

When we reached my building, an unmarked patrol car was already parked nearby.

Nothing looked unusual.

That frightened me more than if I had seen Adrian waiting outside.

We entered through the lobby and took the stairs down.

The basement smelled of concrete, dust, and warm metal pipes.

My storage cage was at the far end.

The padlock was hanging open.

I stopped.

“I locked that.”

Grant moved ahead of me.

The blue suitcase was gone.

For one horrible moment, I thought we had lost everything.

Then an officer called from the boiler room.

“Detective.”

We followed him inside.

The suitcase lay open behind a maintenance cabinet.

Someone had searched it.

Old photographs were scattered across the floor.

My father’s military jacket had been thrown aside.

A stack of Christmas cards had been ripped open.

But Mara had known Adrian better than he knew her.

The real hiding place was sewn into the suitcase lining.

I knew because our father had once used it to hide emergency cash when we traveled.

I opened the inner seam.

Inside was a small waterproof pouch.

Grant put on gloves before removing it.

The pouch contained a second flash drive, three memory cards, and a handwritten letter.

The letter was addressed to me.

Lena,

If you found this, then Adrian found the suitcase first and still missed what mattered.

I almost laughed.

Even terrified, Mara had understood his arrogance.

The flash drive contained security footage from her house.

Mara had installed two hidden cameras after discovering the unauthorized transfers.

One camera faced the kitchen.

The other faced Adrian’s study.

We watched the kitchen footage first.

There he was.

Adrian.

Standing over Mara’s tea.

He removed a small bottle from his pocket and added several drops.

Then he stirred the cup and carried it upstairs.

The timestamp was clear.

Three days before Mara’s hospitalization.

The next clip showed Camille entering through the back door after midnight.

Adrian met her in the kitchen.

Their conversation was captured clearly.

Camille looked frightened.

“This has gone too far.”

“You wanted the debt gone,” Adrian said.

Camille shook her head.

“I agreed to tell people Mara was forgetful.

I agreed to move some papers.

I did not agree to drug her.”

Adrian stepped closer.

“You agreed when you took my money.”

“She could die.”