By eight in the morning, Ashcroft Group was already bleeding. Benedict stood in Jonathan Mercer's office while a financial report filled the screen. Three major clients had delayed payments. Two suppliers were threatening to suspend contracts. And the company's share price had fallen again."This started yesterday," Jonathan said.Benedict studied the figures. "No.""No?""This started weeks ago." He pointed to several transactions. "Someone has been moving money out of the operating divisions slowly. Small enough that nobody noticed."Jonathan enlarged the figures. "You're right.""Who approved them?""That's the problem." He pulled up the authorization trail. The approvals carried Damian's digital credentials.Damian, standing near the window, turned around. "I didn't approve those.""I know," Benedict said."How?""Because whoever did this understands your authority but not the company."Damian frowned. "What does that mean?""These transfers hurt the divisions that generate the mo

Benedict didn't move. For several seconds after the call ended, the room felt unnaturally still. Evelyn was staring at her phone, her fingers trembling."Was that really Samuel?" Benedict asked."I don't know.""You called him by name.""I haven't heard his voice in twenty-four years."Benedict looked toward the window. The car outside was gone whoever had been there had left without making another sound. That bothered him more than if they'd stayed."Tell me about the archive."Evelyn closed her eyes. "I don't know where it is.""But Samuel expected you to know enough to keep me away from it.""He expected me to keep you alive."Benedict studied her. "What's in it?""Records.""Which records?""The ones people spent years trying to destroy."That answer was too vague. Benedict stepped closer. "You told me Samuel knew I was alive.""Yes.""You told me he discovered who handled my transfer.""Yes.""And now you're telling me there's an archive containing the evidence."Evelyn nodded.

Benedict stared at the photograph. Victor was younger much younger but there was no mistaking him. He stood outside what appeared to be an old office building, wearing a dark suit and holding a folder beneath one arm. Beside him stood the same man whose face had been scratched from the photographs in Samuel's records.Benedict turned the picture over.Ask Victor who he trusted.He read it again. Serena stepped closer. "Do you recognize the building?""No."Jonathan took the photograph carefully. "There might be something on the front." He examined the background. A faded sign hung above the entrance, only part of the name visible....MERCER...Jonathan looked at Benedict. "Mercer."Benedict nodded. "So Victor knew someone connected to Mercer.""Twenty-six years ago," Jonathan said.The date mattered. That was the year Benedict disappeared.Benedict looked at the photograph again. "Let's go home."Serena frowned. "You want to ask Victor now?""Yes."Jonathan looked toward the basemen

Caleb kept his eyes on Benedict. For several seconds, Benedict said nothing. The folder in his hand suddenly felt heavier than it should have."The person who ordered my protection," he said slowly. "You said that person was the one they were protecting."Caleb nodded."Then tell me who it was.""I can't."Benedict's expression hardened. "You just told me the truth was in this folder.""The truth is in there.""Then why can't I open it?""Because the instruction tells you what happened." Caleb paused. "It doesn't tell you why."Benedict looked at Serena. She'd been silent since they entered the room. "That's convenient."Caleb accepted the accusation. "I know."Benedict opened the folder. Inside was a single sheet of paper - old, carefully preserved. The writing was faded, but the words were still readable.Temporary Protection Authorization.Benedict scanned the document. His name appeared near the top.Benedict Vandross.Below it, the instruction:The child is to remain under privat

By the time Benedict reached St. Mary's, the rain had stopped. The old building looked smaller than he remembered. Maybe it wasn't the building that had changed. Maybe it was him. Twenty-five years ago, he had been a five-year-old boy waiting for someone to come back for him. Now he was standing in the same place trying to understand why nobody had. Serena stepped out of the car beside him. "Are you sure you want to do this tonight?" Benedict looked through the iron gates. "No." She waited. "But I'm doing it anyway." Caleb remained in the car. He'd insisted on staying behind — not because he was afraid, but because, as he'd put it, someone had already seen him alive, and he didn't want to make their job easier. Jonathan had gone back to Ashcroft Group to monitor the financial attack, which left Benedict and Serena to investigate Room Seven. The building was still used as a medical archive, though most of the original rooms had been closed for years. A maintenance worker let them i