The morning the alcohol finally loosened its grip on her skull, the first thing she noticed was the scent of expensive soap on hotel sheets that were far too white to belong to her life

mind.

Beneath it was a copy of the note.

“Call it destiny. Do not try to find me.”

Elena stopped breathing.

There was also a second page: a trust document. Her name appeared on the first line. Under beneficiary, in cold black ink, was a name she had never seen before.

Her heart hammered as she reached for the paper.

Then the glass conference-room door swung continue reading …