Seven months after our divorce, I rushed into St. Jude’s Children’s and Women’s Hospital, still angry at my ex-wife, only to learn that she had just given birth to twin boys, and both of them were mine. Before the night was over, a nurse would place a brass key in my hand and tell me to use it before my own family arrived. And what was waiting for me beyond that was even more shocking.

“What happened yesterday?” I asked, a knot forming in my stomach.

“Your mother’s private security team broke into the Laurel Street archive yesterday afternoon,” Evelyn disclosed calmly.

“But they found a completely empty vault.”

“Where were the original records moved to?” I asked eagerly.

Evelyn reached into the pocket of her cardigan and took out a sleek, industrial silver flash drive.

“Sylvia wisely made complete digital copies of every single ledger six months ago,” Evelyn revealed with a proud smile.

“The original paper archives were safely moved to a high-security legal vault under my firm’s authority.”