been a mistake.

A door opened across the room.

The woman who stepped out carried herself with the confidence of someone who never doubted being obeyed.

She was probably in her early thirties, impeccably dressed in black, hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, a diamond watch bright against her wrist.

Her heels clicked over the wood floor in crisp, efficient beats.

Elena met her halfway and quietly handed over the card.

The woman glanced at it, then at Evan, taking in every detail in a single sweep: the rumpled shirt, the sleeping child, the exhaustion.

Her expression changed only slightly, but the change was enough.

Disdain, sanded smooth by professional training.

She approached the desk.

“I’m Victoria Hail, senior account manager.

Elena said you need assistance with this card.”

Evan rose halfway from the chair, then sat back down when Lucy shifted.

“Yes.

My wife left it to me before she passed away.

I’ve never used it.

I just need to see whether there’s anything in the account.”

Victoria’s eyebrows lifted.

“You don’t know the balance?”

“No.”

The corner of her mouth curved.

“That usually means people are hoping for a miracle.”

The words were light.

The cruelty wasn’t.

Evan felt heat rise in his face.

He almost apologized again, though he had done nothing wrong.

“I just want to check it, please.”

“Of course.”

She sat at the terminal, inserted the card, and entered a series of commands with the casual assurance of someone expecting nothing interesting to happen.

Then the screen changed.

Victoria paused.

A second authentication window appeared, then a third.

She leaned closer.

Elena, standing nearby, noticed the shift first.

“Is there a problem?”

Victoria did not answer.

She typed again, slower now.

Her smirk vanished.

She opened another screen.

Color drained from her face so suddenly that even Evan, exhausted and anxious, saw it.

“What is it?” he asked.

Victoria looked up as though she had forgotten he was in the room.

“Mr.

Carter…

where did you get this card?”

“From my wife.

Sarah Carter.

It was in her jewelry box after she died.”

Victoria swallowed.

“One moment.”

She stood, walked three fast steps to the closed office at the end of the hall, and knocked once before entering without waiting.

Through the glass panel, Evan saw her speaking urgently to an older man in a gray suit.

When she emerged, she was no longer leading with her chin.

The man followed her out.

He looked to be in his sixties, silver-haired, measured, with the kind of calm that seemed expensive in a different way.

“Mr.

Carter,” he said, extending his hand.

“I’m Leonard Glass, regional branch director.

May I sit with you?”

Evan stared for half a second before shifting Lucy and awkwardly shaking his hand.

“Sure.”

Leonard sat opposite him.

Victoria remained standing, her posture rigid.

Elena hovered a few steps away, concern written openly across her face.

“I’ve reviewed the preliminary account display,” Leonard said.

“Before we go further, we’ll need to confirm your identity and your relation to Sarah Carter.

Do you have identification with you?”

Evan handed over his driver’s license.

It still had the old address from before their move to the cheaper apartment.

Leonard checked the name and date of birth, then asked quietly, “Do you have a