Morning light filtered through the windows of an old café tucked in a corner of the city.

Evelyn sat in the back, dressed in a plain black shirt and a long coat. Her hands wrapped around a cup of cold coffee. Across from her sat a middle-aged man with a serious face—Arman, an investigative journalist who once covered the world of philanthropy and had been close to her late mother.

“Sorry for calling you out of the blue,” Evelyn said softly.

“I’ve been waiting for someone from her family to come find me,” Arman replied. “I thought you’d never want to know the truth.”

Evelyn met his eyes. “I’m ready...