The silence between them was louder than gunfire.

Amira stood at the edge of the room, heart pounding like a war drum. Leonardo hadn’t moved since he’d spoken those haunting words—“They think you have it.” The weight of them still pressed on her chest like a stone.

A ledger? Her father?

So much of her life had been built on half-truths and quiet lies, but this... this was something else entirely.

“You still think I’m lying,” she said quietly.

Leonardo sighed, setting down the glass of whiskey he hadn’t touched. “I think you’ve been lied to. There’s a difference.”

She folded her arms. “And you? Have you told me the...