THE FIRST PAYMENT WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING

The address led to an abandoned convent two hours north of the city.

Rose had copied it from Grantham’s file before leaving. By the time Evelyn and federal agents reached the property, her rental car stood near the gate with the driver’s door open.

Inside the chapel, candles burned despite years of dust.

Willamina waited near the altar.

Rose stood ten feet away, holding the red ledger.

Neither woman appeared injured.

“You brought them,” Willamina said when Evelyn entered.

“I told her not to follow,” Rose replied.

“You should know by now that she does not obey.”

Willamina looked different without the armor of Thorn House. Her hair was unstyled. Dark circles shadowed her eyes. The woman who had poured wine over Evelyn seemed smaller, though not harmless.

“Where is the trust instrument?” Evelyn asked.

“Not here.”

“Then why lure us?”

“I did not. Grantham did.”

Willamina said she fled after Helena ordered the museum attack. She discovered that her mother planned to blame the entire fraud scheme on her and Grantham. The life-insurance policy naming Willamina was designed for the same purpose. If Evelyn died, the payment would make Willamina appear responsible while Helena’s network absorbed the trust.

“Why did you slap me?” Evelyn asked.

Shame flickered across Willamina’s face, then vanished behind bitterness. “Because Mother spent years telling me you were the thief who replaced me. Every gift you received was described as something taken from my future. Every time Grantham defended you, she said you had bewitched him. I hated you because hating you was easier than admitting she had built my entire life around a lie.”

“That explains it. It does not excuse it.”

“I know.”

The apology was incomplete, but it was the first honest thing Evelyn had heard from her.

Willamina carried a flash drive containing copies of Helena’s communications with the crown-and-eye foundation. She also had audio recordings of Helena discussing Northbridge and the forged divorce.

Before she could hand them over, the chapel doors slammed shut.

Smoke began pouring through the ventilation grates.

Agents shouted from outside that the exits had been electronically locked.

Rose ran toward a side door while Evelyn pulled Willamina away from the thickening smoke. The chapel’s old windows were reinforced with metal mesh. Flames appeared in the vestibule.

Willamina coughed and pointed toward the altar. “There is a tunnel. Mother used this place for meetings.”

Behind a carved panel, they found stone steps descending into darkness.

The tunnel was narrow and wet, built centuries earlier to connect the convent to a farmhouse beyond the hill. Halfway through, an explosion shook dust from the ceiling.

Evelyn stumbled. Rose caught her.

“You should not have followed,” Rose said.

“You stole the ledger.”

“I borrowed it.”

“This is not the time.”

“It rarely is.”

They emerged behind the ruined farmhouse as fire consumed the chapel roof.

Willamina collapsed in the grass, clutching the flash drive.

A black vehicle sped away along the service road. Agents pursued but lost it in the forest.

The flash drive survived.

Its contents transformed the case.

Helena’s recorded voice discussed bribing court clerks, manipulating medical records, and creating the false divorce. She referred repeatedly to someone called the Custodian.

In one recording, Helena said, “The Custodian approved Evelyn’s removal if Grantham failed to stabilize her.”

Another voice replied, distorted but recognizable to Evelyn.

It belonged to the family’s longtime priest, Father Lucien Ward.

He had baptized Clara and Oliver. He had counseled Evelyn after her mother’s death. He had renewed Evelyn and Grantham’s vows one year earlier.

The recording continued.

Father Lucien said, “The children must remain inside the structure. The girl is nearing eligibility.”

Evelyn stopped the audio.

“The girl?”

Priya searched the trust documents.