My stepmother dumped my dead mother's ashes onto our driveway, kicked me out of my father's house, and watched as my stepbrother filmed me crawling through the rain. “Smile, orphan,” he laughed, while I desperately gathered what was left of my mother with my bare hands. They thought they'd stolen everything from me, but hidden in my suitcase was a tiny brass key connected to a secret my father had never told them.

The raid on Blake’s suite at the Grand Continental took place at 2:00 AM.

Thanks to Marianne’s emergency injunction and the stolen watch connection, Judge Sterling signed the warrant within an hour. I waited in Miller’s unmarked cruiser across the boulevard, watching the blue and red strobe lights reflect across the mirrored facade of the luxury hotel.

Twenty minutes later, Blake was led out through the revolving glass doors in gray sweatpants and bare feet, his hands cuffed behind him. He wasn't laughing now. He was screaming for his mother, sobbing so hard that snot ran down his lip.

Behind him, a detective carried an evidence bag containing Dad’s Rolex and an encrypted burner phone.

At 4:00 AM, Miller called me into the precinct interrogation observation room. Through the one-way glass, Blake looked small, terrified, and broken under the fluorescent strip lights.

“He cracked after fifteen minutes,” Miller whispered, leaning against the counter. “He’s terrified of going to state prison. He gave up Grant, and he gave up Kane.”

“What did he say?”

“He said Grant paid Kane with the cash from Dad’s firm. But Blake didn't just know about it—Grant sent Blake to Kane’s apartment Monday afternoon to deliver the hit money and an envelope with David’s schedule.”

“And Celeste?”

“Celeste was the one who provided David’s calendar,” Miller said coldly. “She found out David was meeting your mother to exchange the final trust papers. Celeste told Grant: ‘Take them both out. It’ll look like a street robbery targeting a couple.’ Blake took the watch from Grant’s desk after the murder because he thought his uncle wouldn't notice.”

The door to the observation room opened, and another detective poked his head in. “Miller, we’ve got a problem. Grant’s bail was posted thirty minutes ago by a private bondsman. He just walked out of county lockup.”

“Who put up the collateral?” Miller barked.

“A shell corporation tied to Viktor Rossi. And our surveillance team says Celeste just checked out of the Continental. They’re headed toward the private airstrip at Mercer County Airport.”

My heart seized. “They’re running.”

“Not without the backup drive,” Marianne Vale said, stepping into the room, her coat soaked from the rain. “Rossi doesn't bail people out to save them, Nora. He bails them out to get his property back. If Grant doesn't bring him the encrypted drive containing the offshore accounts, Rossi will kill them both before their plane clears state airspace.”

“Where does Grant think the drive is?” I asked.