For ten agonizing seconds, the kitchen was perfectly static. No one dared to inhale. The rhythmic ticking of the antique wall clock suddenly sounded like the heavy, echoing footsteps of an approaching executioner.

“Acquired?” Jason echoed, the word tasting like ash in his mouth.

I reached into the pocket of my sweatpants and pulled out my phone. I didn’t open a photo album. I opened a secure, encrypted PDF. I laid the phone flat on the marble, sliding it toward him.

End of story — Part 3 of 3