“Zoe,” I said, “did Aunt Monique send Chad anything?

Account information, screenshots, anything like that?” “I don’t know,” she said, and then, with the clean logic of someone who has not yet learned that adults are supposed to handle adult problems alone, “then we should find out what she sent.” I wanted to tell her this was mine to carry.

Instead I asked her what she knew about Chad’s company, and she gave me the little look she uses when a question is obvious.

“Only that he buys things in one country and sells them in another.” Which, as she pointed out herself, is not a company name.