But the twist hit harder when I reached for the phone again, scrolling through the call log. A missed call from his office number, timestamped at 7:45 a.m., labeled “CEO.” The call was answered—by a woman’s voice I didn’t recognize. The recorded message, automatically saved, played:
“Hey, this is Lila from the board. I’m calling about the merger. We need you in the conference room in thirty minutes. Bring the documents.”
He hadn’t been heading to a meeting with a client. He was going to a boardroom. The “secretary” was a lie. The name Caroline was a cover.
My eyes fell to the kitchen counter, where a small, unopened envelope sat. I opened it. Inside was a single sheet of paper, a handwritten note in his handwriting:
Jess, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to find out like this. I was going to tell you, but then—
