By the time he realized what was happening, he had already answered Emily Blair's call.

Alex White stood there, unsure whether he should pick up the shattered pieces of the wall clock or just hang up on Emily Blair.

As he straightened up, Emily's voice came through the phone. “Mr. White, I've just sent you some documents. You should take a look."

Striding toward the broken clock, Alex replied coldly, "You do realize your behavior could be considered harassment, right?"

There was a brief, tense silence.

He couldn't help himself. "Cat got your tongue, Emily?"

She paused, then said evenly, "If you think I'm harassing you, you're welcome to call the police."

As she spoke, Alex bent down to pick up the fallen clock. Her words caught him off- guard. The clock slipped from his hands again, crashing to the floor with another sharp crack.

He snapped, "I'm hanging up."

But Emily managed to squeeze in one last remark before the call ended. "Just look at them. Carefully."

Frustration boiling over, Alex gathered the broken bits of the clock with clumsy, irritated movements and dumped them in the trash.

He swore to himself-he absolutely had no intention of checking Emily Blair's messages.

He only meant to check the top text in his inbox, a message from a coworker. But the moment his finger tapped the screen, a new message from Emily popped up, bumping her to the top of the list. Without thinking, he tapped straight into her chat. And there they were photos from Emily Blair.

He didn't want to look. Yet, his brain began piecing together the details automatically.

The photos were dim, tinged with yellow-a hurried snapshot of some paperwork, with the shadow of Emily's hand and phone cast across the page.

Alex knew he shouldn't keep looking, but as if pulled by some invisible force, his breath quickened and his finger scrolled down.

Just one look, he told himself. It's not like I'm suspicious.

Even if I see them, it doesn't mean I doubt Isabella.

Just a glance.

He tapped on a photo, enlarging it.

It was a document from a trust fund. Clear as day, it showed that some years ago, Isabella Austin had set up the fund in Astoria. The beneficiaries were listed as Peter Clark and Amanda Clark.

Complete strangers. As he scrolled through the next few photos, Emily's answer appeared.

Peter Clark and Amanda Clark were the new names of Brandon Ross and Helen Ross-Matthew Ross's younger siblings, who were supposedly missing for years. The documents included old and new photos; the resemblance was unmistakable.

So Matthew Ross's siblings hadn't vanished. They'd changed their names, erased their past, created new histories and family backgrounds, enrolled in overseas schools, and under Isabella Austin's sponsorship, completed five years of study- now on the verge of earning PhDs.

Alex could almost hear his own heart plummeting into a void.

When did Isabella Austin get so deeply involved with Matthew Ross?

Why would Isabella do this?

Was she connected to the misdiagnosis that haunted Matthew Ross?

A heavy ache settled in Alex's chest. His breath came in short, ragged bursts; his fingers went cold.

He recalled the conversation between Emily Blair and Isabella Austin. His scalp tingled.

Had Isabella ever told him the truth about anything?

Should he trust Isabella? Or believe Emily?

No. Wait.

A sudden clarity struck him.

With Emily Blair's skills, it wouldn't be hard for her to fabricate all this.

He couldn't let himself be tricked by Emily Blair. He'd promised himself-never again would he doubt Isabella Austin.