maybe more. My fingers hesitate at the flap, like whatever's ins

l it

ed. A little crumpled. It's my father, standing

.

n's f

shakin

ond item. A newspaper clipping. Folded, neat

ES UNDER DEBT AND

ams in silence. M

egacy. Torn down and disgraced. I remember his voice, the way it trembled near the end, how he stopped ment

in business, trust is mo

the dresser, forcin

being pulled loose. A conversation I wasn't meant to hear. I mus

merger-my people won't survive if you push the interest hi

was si

hy, Wang. It's built on strength. If your ho

breath, pressing my fo

at damn memory, is

my phone. My hands are shaking

loud to steady my

up after

Everythi

es. "I need information. On

pause. "In

Lim Group. Something shady. Anything invo

soft but guarded, "why are

die just a broke man," I w

pause.

can find. But b

ng she can't se

the dresser. I fold the newspaper clipping again-this time

e drawer fully shut

la

yd

ath hi

toward my hands-still lingering near the

ndifferent stare. This version of Zayden is calculating,

ugh the tension. "Wha

om con

he drawer. Th

thi

a predator approaching a sound in the

ove. I do

I open my mouth now