After 3 years in prison, I came home to find my father dead and my stepmother in his house. “He was buried a year ago,” she said coldly. She didn’t know he’d left me a secret letter with a key. It led me to a storage unit, and a video he’d made before he d;ie;d. “She framed you,” he said.

Everything you need—the truth, the documents, the proof—is in Unit 108. Go there first.

Do not confront Linda before you go.

Do not warn anyone.

If you do, the evidence will disappear, just like the money did.

I stared at the words until they blurred into ink stains.

My father had been planning something. Something serious enough that he didn’t trust his own wife. Something big enough that he believed my life—my entire conviction for embezzlement—was tangled in it.

At the bottom, he wrote:

I’m sorry I waited. I’m sorry I let you carry what should never have been yours to carry.

I love you.

—Dad