A name everyone in the city knew.
I read it again.
“That can’t be right.”
Liam stepped closer.
“What?”
I pointed.
He leaned over the page.
Then he stopped.
My mother watched us.
“Now you understand why I came.”
Detective Ruiz photographed the document.
I could barely hear the camera sound over the pounding of my heart.
The K-1 was dated nine years ago.
The year my father died.
It showed a distribution.
Not billions.
Not millions.
One hundred dollars.
A meaningless amount.
Except forensic accountants know that small transactions are often not about money.
They test pathways.
Confirm account access.
Create legal records.
The one-hundred-dollar distribution had been issued to a man whose public career had begun just two years later.
A man who had appeared in photographs with Ethan.
Shaken his hand.
Praised Apex Development at city events.
A man Ethan often described as a mentor.
Councilman Daniel Vale.
