The prosecutor.

Noah stared.

"That's impossible."

Evelyn shook her head.

"Look at the date."

Three years earlier.

Before Claire died.

The woman was smiling beside Claire.

On the back were four words.

She knows everything, Noah.

Noah looked toward the courthouse doors.

The prosecutor was still inside.

And suddenly, the victory they had celebrated felt incomplete.

Because maybe Victor had never been the mastermind.

Maybe he had only been one piece of something much larger.

Noah didn't sleep that night.

The photograph stayed on the table beside his bed.

The prosecutor's face stared back at him.

Her name was Amelia Grant.

She had appeared sympathetic throughout the hearing.

She had spoken gently.

She had even seemed shaken when she heard about the boys sleeping in their car.

But now Noah couldn't stop wondering.

How long had she known Claire?

Why had Claire photographed them together?

And what did "she knows everything" mean?

Mara didn't want Noah involved.

But the evidence had already become complicated.

The next morning, she met with Judge Mercer.

Meanwhile, Noah and Eli stayed at the temporary family home.

Eli was eating breakfast when he suddenly asked,

"Why are you worried?"

Noah looked at him.

"I'm not."

"You are."

"How do you know?"

"You rub your thumb when you're worried."

Noah smiled.

"You notice too much."

"Mom taught me."

That sentence hurt.

But Noah smiled anyway.

Later that afternoon, Mara returned.

She had news.

Amelia Grant had indeed known Claire.

They had worked together on a legal case years earlier.

But there was more.

Amelia had secretly helped Claire investigate Victor.

She had been trying to gather evidence.

Then why had Claire written that she knew everything?

Because Amelia knew the full story.

Including something Claire had never told Mara.

The missing recording.

Mara had recovered it.

File eighteen had been partially damaged, but enough remained to restore the audio.

They listened.

Claire's voice sounded frightened.

"Amelia, if you're hearing this, then I didn't make it."

Noah leaned forward.

"Victor isn't the only one involved."

Claire continued.

"There is a person inside the legal process."

Amelia's voice answered.

"Who?"

Claire said a name.

The recording became distorted.

Noah couldn't hear it.

Then Claire said,

"I can't say it here."

The rest was almost impossible to understand.

But one sentence came through clearly.

"Follow the money."

Mara immediately began tracing financial records.

The money moved through several companies.

Eventually, it reached an account belonging to a foundation.

The foundation was connected to the court's contractor network.

And one board member stood out.

Thomas Reed.

The evidence now showed that Victor and Thomas had worked together.

But there was still no proof that Amelia had done anything wrong.

In fact, the opposite seemed true.

She had been investigating them.

The photograph had been a warning, not an accusation.

Noah felt ashamed.

"I thought she was involved."

Mara shook her head.

"Your mother wanted you to question everyone."

"Even people who look trustworthy."

"Exactly."

That afternoon, Amelia came to see them.

She sat across from Noah.

"I knew your mother."

Noah nodded.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I wasn't sure who was watching."

Noah frowned.

She explained that Claire had suspected someone had access to confidential legal information.

Every time Claire made a move, Victor seemed to know.

Someone was leaking information.

Amelia had tried to identify the person.

Then Claire died.

Amelia became afraid.

She had stepped back.

"Why didn't you protect us?"

The question was harsh.

Amelia accepted it.

"Because I was afraid."

Noah looked away.

"Adults always say they're protecting us."

"I know."

"And somehow we're the ones who end up paying for it."

Amelia lowered her eyes.

"You're right."

For a moment, nobody spoke.

Then Amelia gave Noah a small key.

"This belonged to your mother."

Noah recognized it.

It matched a lockbox.

"Where is the box?"

"The city archives."

They went there that evening.

The lockbox contained the final piece.

A list of names.

People who had received money from Victor.

Judges.

Lawyers.

Contractors.

Business owners.

But one name was circled.

Richard Carter.

Noah stared.

His father.

Again.

Richard entered the room.

He saw the list.

"I can explain."

Noah's expression hardened.

"You took money."

"Yes."

"How much?"

Richard told him.

Noah couldn't believe it.

"You took that much and still expect me to trust you?"

"I don't."

Richard's voice was quiet.

"I expect you to watch what I do next."

He handed Noah a folder.

Inside were bank records.

Richard had returned every dollar.

He had also provided a sworn statement against Victor.

He had chosen to testify.

Against everyone.

Noah stared at him.

"Why?"

Richard looked at Eli.

"Because I finally understood what I was losing."

Noah didn't forgive him.

Not yet.

But for the first time, he believed his father might be trying.

That night, Judge Mercer issued a new order.

The brothers would remain together.

A permanent guardian would be appointed after investigation.

And Noah would no longer be required to act as Eli's parent.

He could return to school.

He could stop working.

He could sleep.

He could be fifteen.

Noah read the order twice.

Then he looked at Eli.

"We might actually get a home."

Eli smiled.

"A real one?"

"A real one."

For the first time, Noah allowed himself to believe it.

But there was still one unanswered question.

Who had been watching Claire?