“Samuel worked for him.”
Rachel whispered, “My father.”
Dad looked at her.
“Your father tried to leave.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“After you discovered the accounts.”
“You’re saying he changed?”
“I’m saying he became afraid.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No.”
Dad nodded.
“It isn’t.”
Samuel had helped build the scheme.
Then his daughter became a target.
Family had turned corruption into conscience.
Too late.
But not entirely.
Dad plugged the flash drive into my office computer.
Files appeared.
Videos.
Emails.
Audio.
Property documents.
Then one folder.
MELISSA.
My hands shook.
I clicked it.
A video opened.
Melissa appeared on the screen.
My real daughter.
The birthmark was visible beneath her left ear.
Older.
Her hair shorter.
But unmistakably Melissa.
She looked directly into the camera.
“Dad, if you’re watching this, I hope it means we finally won.”
I covered my mouth.
Her voice continued.
“I’m alive.”
Rachel began
