Greenwood Cemetery looked different at three in the morning. The manicured lawns and carefully tended flower beds that made it peaceful during the day now seemed cold and unwelcoming under the pale streetlights. Shirley led Mac through the winding paths between headstones, her footsteps sure despite the darkness."It's just up here," she said softly, pointing toward a section where newer graves sat beneath a cluster of oak trees.Mac followed her, constantly checking over his shoulder for any signs they'd been followed. The cemetery felt too quiet, too exposed. If Thompson's people had figured out where they were going, this would be the perfect place for an ambush."Here," Shirley said, stopping beside a simple granite headstone that read "Chen Mei-Lin, Beloved Wife and Mother, 1970-2018."Mac watched as Shirley knelt beside the grave, her fingers tracing her mother's name carved into the stone. "I'm sorry, Mom," she whispered. "I'm sorry I haven't visited more often.""Your father kn

Mac walked through the front doors of Thompson Bank like he owned the place. Which, in a way, he almost did, the building's construction loan had come from one of his shell companies three years ago, though Thompson had never figured that out.The lobby was marble and glass, designed to intimidate visitors with its cold elegance. Security guards in expensive suits stood at strategic positions, their eyes tracking Mac's movement as he approached the reception desk."Mac Clement to see Harold Thompson," he said to the receptionist, a young woman who tried to hide her nervousness behind a professional smile."Do you have an appointment, Mr. Clement?""He's expecting me."The receptionist made a quick phone call, speaking in hushed tones before hanging up. "Mr. Thompson will see you now. Thirty-second floor."The elevator ride felt like it lasted forever. Mac used the time to check his phone one last time still no word from Marcus about backup plans, no messages from Shirley. Just the sil

The morning news was brutal for Thompson Bank."Federal agents raided Thompson Bank headquarters early this morning, arresting CEO Harold Thompson on charges of money laundering, conspiracy, and ordering the murders of federal agents..."Mac sat in a secure hotel room watching the coverage while Shirley slept in the chair beside him, exhausted from the night's events. She'd finally dozed off around dawn, her hand still clutching the USB drive containing her father's evidence.His phone buzzed with a text from Marcus: "Robert Chen released. All charges dropped. He's asking for his daughter."Mac looked at Shirley, who was starting to stir as sunlight filtered through the heavy curtains. She opened her eyes slowly, then sat up with a start as she remembered where they were."How long was I asleep?""A few hours. Your father's been released."Shirley was on her feet immediately. "Where is he? Is he okay?""Marcus picked him up from the detention center. He's fine, just worried about you.

Shirley stared at the email on her phone screen, reading it for the third time as if the words might change. Her hands were shaking as she sat in the university library, surrounded by students who had no idea their classmate's world was falling apart."Dear Miss Chen," the message began in cold, formal language. "The Academic Standards Committee has received allegations regarding potential misconduct in your coursework and attendance records. You are required to appear before the disciplinary board on Friday at 2:00 PM to address these concerns. Failure to appear may result in immediate suspension pending investigation."She'd been expecting this call from her advisor, Dr. Martinez, but seeing it in writing made her stomach clench with dread."Shirley, I'm sorry to have to tell you this over the phone," Dr. Martinez had said an hour earlier. "Someone filed a complaint alleging that you've been receiving unauthorized assistance with your assignments and that your recent absences weren't

The morning coffee was getting cold between them as Robert and Shirley sat at the small kitchen table, the comfortable reunion atmosphere from the previous evening replaced by something heavier. Robert had spent most of the night awake, researching Michael Clarke and finding more questions than answers."Dad, you look tired," Shirley said, noticing the dark circles under his eyes. "You should be resting. It's going to take time to adjust to being out.""I couldn't sleep. Too much to think about." Robert wrapped his hands around his coffee mug, studying his daughter's face. "Shirley, I need to talk to you about Michael Clarke.""What about him?""I'm concerned about this relationship you're developing with him."Shirley stiffened. "What kind of concerns?"Robert chose his words carefully. "In my experience, when someone with significant resources suddenly takes a personal interest in helping strangers, there's usually an ulterior motive.""Michael isn't a stranger anymore. And he didn't