Just then, Emily Blair called him again.

Alex White hesitated for a long moment before finally answering.

At first, neither of them spoke. Silence hung between them.

After a while, Alex frowned. "Say something."

Emily Blair suddenly laughed on the other end. "Sorry—I didn't realize you'd actually pick up. I thought you might just ignore me."

Alex frowned again. He still wasn't used to how effortlessly casual Emily sounded, but he let it go.

"Those documents you sent me... Are they real?"

As soon as she finished, the blare of a car horn came through the phone, followed by Emily's voice. "If you don't believe me, let's meet up. I'll show you the hard copies they've got the official seals."

Alex fell silent for a long time.

When he finally spoke, his jaw tightened, face contorting for a second. "Emily, you know what'll happen if you're lying to me, right?"

Emily turned the steering wheel and said evenly, "If you don't trust me, why answer my call? Why did you go to the hospital with me the other day?"

Alex was at a loss for words.

"I'm driving right now," Emily said. "How about I swing by and pick you up? We can talk."

"...Fine," Alex replied.

He gave her his address. Emily checked the map; she was only ten minutes away.

They ended up talking in the car. When Alex got in, he looked furious-he didn't even bother with a greeting. "Where is it?"

Emily reached into the backseat, grabbed a file folder, and handed it to him. "See for yourself."

Alex took the documents. Despite being a doctor, his hands were shaking so badly he could hardly untie the string on the envelope. Watching him fumble, it almost looked comical.

It took real effort for Alex to pull the papers out. His face was ashen, eyes scanning the pages at lightning speed. The only sound in the car was him flipping through the documents.

Emily explained quietly, "On top are the real and forged records for Matthew Ross's younger sibling, Cynthia. Brandon Ross and Helen Ross used fake IDs to get into their current school. They're both still enrolled-should be graduating next month." She paused, glancing at Alex.

His brow was furrowed deep, thumb pinched at the edge of the file, gaze locked on the page.

"Go on," he said.

Emily raised an eyebrow. "Alright."

As Alex moved to the next set of documents, Emily continued, "Next is information on the trust fund Isabella Austin set up in Astoria. Everything's official, with notary stamps. Here are the records of Brandon and Helen withdrawing money over the years."

"Rose Ward's grandmother was misdiagnosed with late-stage bone cancer by Matthew Ross. She's been undergoing chemotherapy at the hospital for years—so many treatments, and it's taken a toll on her. You've seen her; she's still recovering at Central Hospital. A lot of Isabella Austin's works in recent years were actually written by Rose Ward. She kept Rose's grandmother in that hospital, using the outrageous medical bills to blackmail Rose into ghostwriting for her. Luckily, I found out before it got even worse."

"Finally, there's Matthew Ross's malpractice report," Emily said. "Take a good look." For a long time, neither of them spoke.

Alex just kept flipping through the files, his breathing growing faster and more ragged.

Suddenly, he snapped the folder shut, leaned back in the seat, closed his eyes, and let out a heavy, shuddering breath.