I slid the folder and the drive into my handbag, next to the ticket. Not documents anymore. Ammunition.

“Thank you, Paige. You just saved your own life. Don’t contact him. Don’t go back to the office. Lay low. When the time comes, my lawyer will reach you.”

Chapter 4 — Helena Cross

By noon I was in the glass-paneled office of Helena Cross, a high-powered attorney who specialized in elder law, financial exploitation, and brutal family property disputes.

I’d found her name in an article about a landmark case where she tore apart a family trying to swindle their matriarch.

I skipped the pleasantries. I dropped the navy folder on her mahogany desk, set the flash drive on top, and finally laid down the twelve-million-dollar ticket.

Her eyebrows arched a fraction as she looked from the ticket to my face. “Mrs. Hayes. That is quite an opening statement. How can I help you?”