Nathan came home early and found his wife raising a hockey stick over the child who secretly carried his blood.

Grace was released from the hospital four weeks later. She walked out leaning on my arm, pale and still healing, but alive. We took her not to the city mansion, but to a smaller, quiet property on the edge of town. Protected. Walled. Guarded. Safe.

That evening, we gathered in the living room. Me. Grace. Lily. Margaret. And Victoria's affidavit. And the ledger. And every copy, photograph, and recording we possessed.

"We have enough to put them away for life," Grace said quietly, tracing the edge of a document. "But Arthur's letter... it troubles me deeply. 'There are others.' What did he mean?"

"My mother built a network," I said. "Arthur ran it. There were lawyers. Bankers. Judges. Business associates. People who accepted payments. People who looked the other way. If my mother goes down... some of them go down with her. Which means... they may have an interest in silencing us before the trial begins."

Grace looked toward the window. Toward where Lily played quietly with Margaret in the next room.

"Then we must be ready. Every step. Every hour. Until the gavel falls."

The preliminary hearing began two weeks later. A procedural step. To determine if there was sufficient evidence to proceed to trial. Victoria testified. Grace testified. Margaret testified. My lawyers laid out the documents. The judge ruled there was overwhelming evidence. Trial date set for six months away.

Walking out of the courthouse, reporters swarmed us. Cameras flashed. I kept my head down, one arm around Grace, the other holding Lily's hand tight.

Then I saw him. Across the street. Standing beside a black sedan. Watching. Older. Silver hair. Sharp face. He caught my eye. Gave the faintest nod. Then stepped into the vehicle and was gone.

I froze.

Grace noticed. "Nathan? What is it?"

"That man," I said. "I've seen him before. In photographs with my father. Standing in the background at events. And once... at Arthur's estate. Years ago."

"Who was he?" Grace asked.

"I don't know," I said. "But I intend to find out."