But how do you explain to children that their father is gone forever? Especially when you’re not entirely sure what else he might have taken with him. No, sweetheart, Charlotte whispered, smoothing Emma’s curls. But Daddy loved you so much more than all the stars in the sky. Grandma Margaret said Daddy spent all the money. Ethan mumbled from beside his sister. She said, “We’re poor now.

” Charlotte’s jaw clenched. She’d explicitly asked the Thornfields not to discuss finances with the children, but apparently even that boundary was too much to respect. “We have everything we need,” she said firmly, though her empty refrigerator suggested otherwise. “We have each other, and that’s what matters most.

” But as she watched her babies sleep, Charlotte couldn’t shake the feeling that David wouldn’t have left them with nothing. the man who used to read Forbes magazine religiously, who’d built a successful accounting practice from scratch, who’d always talked about planning for the future.

That man wouldn’t have gambled away his children’s security on experimental treatments, unless he’d been planning for a different kind of future entirely. Her phone buzzed again, but this time it wasn’t a creditor. The number was unfamiliar, but something about it made her pulse quicken. Charlotte, this is Vincent Castelliano. The voice she remembered from Sunday dinners and birthday parties was strained, urgent.

Vincent, I Where have you been? I tried calling after the funeral. I know. I’m sorry, Charlotte. I need to see you tonight if possible. There are things about David, things his family doesn’t know. Things you need to know. Charlotte’s grip tightened on the phone. What kind of things? The kind that change everything.

Can you meet me at my office? and Charlotte, don’t tell anyone you’re coming. Not anyone. As she hung up the phone, Charlotte felt the first spark of something she hadn’t experienced in weeks. Hope. Maybe David hadn’t abandoned them after all. Maybe he’d just hidden the truth so well that even death couldn’t reveal it. She looked at her sleeping children, then at the eviction notice taped to her door. Whatever Vincent knew, it had better be worth the risk.

Vincent Castelliano’s law office occupied the top floor of a gleaming downtown high-rise. a stark contrast to the modest practice Charlotte had expected. As the elevator climbed 43 floors, she wondered how David’s college friend had managed to afford such prime real estate.

The receptionist had long since gone home, leaving the hallways dimly lit and eerily quiet. Charlotte’s footsteps echoed against marble floors as she followed Vincent’s directions to the corner office. Through floor toseeiling windows, the city sparkled below like a constellation of possibilities. Charlotte Vincent rose from behind a mahogany desk that probably cost more than her annual salary.

He looked older than she remembered, grayer, more worn, but his eyes held the same kindness that had made him David’s closest friend. Vincent, what’s going on? Your call sounded so urgent, so secretive, because it has to be.

He moved to the windows, checking the street below with the paranoia of someone who’d been watching over his shoulder for months. David made me promise to wait 30 days after the funeral before contacting you. He said he said if anything happened to him before he could tell you the truth, I was the only one he trusted to handle it properly. Charlotte’s stomach dropped.