Her brother and her nephews had systematically forged her signature on divestment paperwork, using a corrupted legal network to lock her out of her own inheritance.

I picked up the plastic-sealed documents. They were original stock certificates, pristine and unblemished, bearing the gold seal of Sterling Industries.

Attached to them was a financial audit dated three months earlier.

Hazel hadn’t been broke.

She was the rightful owner of forty-five percent of the voting shares of a conglomerate currently valued at over three hundred million dollars.

Finally, I opened the velvet pouch. Inside was a flash drive and a handwritten note, addressed to me.