The good name.

The public story of themselves as philanthropists and pillars, maintained at the cost of galas and donations and careful publicity and the constant, grinding management of appearances.

Constance had lived for it.

Kieran had been raised to protect it.

It was, to them, the family’s most precious asset, more real in their minds than the actual buildings they owned.

And when the truth finally came, that vast investment in reputation turned out to be worth exactly nothing — less than nothing, because the loftiness of the public image only made the fall steeper.

All the years of image-making could not survive a single box of documents.