"Where does the money come from?"
Julian's voice was tight. Both hands flat on the table, leaning into the timeline like he could make it change.
"Somewhere close," Arianne said. "Close enough to reach. Far enough to hide."
No one had sat down. Not once since they entered the study. The documents stayed open across the table, pages spread like a map of something none of them had known was under their feet. Arianne stood at the center. Franz beside her. Across from them, Nate and Julian. Gilbert at the head.
Nate had been moving since Gilbert opened the first file. From the far end of the table to the window and back. His hand came down on the edge—not a slam, but enough to make the wood creak.
"He didn't pull from Summers directly." His jaw was tight. "He pulled from what sat around it. What sat around her." He looked at Arianne. "How long would it have taken you to see it?"
"I didn't have the full picture," Arianne said.
