Ethan
Priya knocked on my office door just after eight the following morning, a slim folder in her hands and an expression I'd learned to recognize as her particular brand of professional caution, the one she wore whenever she'd found something she suspected I wouldn't want to see.
"The Bennett family financial history you requested," she said, setting the folder on my desk. "It took longer than expected. Diane Bennett's estate attorneys had structured several transactions through private trusts, which took some additional work to trace."
"And?"
"There's something in here I thought you'd want to review yourself, rather than have summarized." She hesitated at the door. "I'd suggest looking at the highlighted section first."
I opened the folder once she'd left, scanning past the routine
