I kept every receipt in his desk.”

Julian took one step closer, blocking the doorway completely.

“Dad was eighty-one years old, Elena,” he said, his voice dropping into a low, smooth purr.

“He was confused during his final months.

He made real estate investments through my firm to secure returns, and he spent heavily on private medical consults out in Columbus.”

“Dad never spent money without writing the check number in his black cloth notebook,” I said.

“Dad didn’t tell you everything,” Julian said.