studied the photograph again.
“My sister hated those events. She went because the hospital convinced her that having a Prescott family member there would help fundraising.”
I looked at Caroline’s face.
She appeared tired but happy.
Alive.
“So that’s why you were there.”
“Yes.”
“And Ethan?”
“I don’t remember him.”
“He remembers you.”
“That’s possible.”
“How?”
“If he was working with Northbridge or one of its accounting firms, he could have attended as a guest.”
“He says his company was doing compliance work.”
Adrian’s eyes sharpened.
“You spoke to him?”
“Yes.”
“What did he tell you?”
I almost answered.
Then stopped.
Only hours earlier, I might have told Adrian everything.
He had been kind.
Patient.
He had helped me.
But kindness was not the same as trust.
Not yet.
“Enough to know Northbridge matters.”
Something like approval flickered in his eyes.
Not because I was withholding information.
Because I had
