Mom covered her mouth.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered, "Your father warned people about that exact structure."
My heart pounded.
"Can we prove it?"
She looked toward the metal box.
Then she reached beneath the old papers and removed a small USB drive.
She stared at it.
"Your father gave me this three days before he died."
"What's on it?"
Her eyes filled.
"I never opened it."
I stared in disbelief.
"Because he told me to give it to someone only if Kenji ever came looking for us."
A cold feeling moved through my chest.
I looked at the drive.
Then at my mother.
"Mom, he's already looking."
Chapter 4
The USB drive sat between us on the kitchen table.
It was small.
Black.
Almost ordinary.
But my mother looked at it as though it might contain the answers to fifteen years of pain.
I reached toward it.
She stopped my hand.
"Aiko, we need to be careful."
"Because your father believed people were watching him before he died."
"Watching him?"
She nodded.
"He thought someone had accessed his office computer. He said documents were disappearing."
I stared at the drive.
"Did he tell the police?"
"He tried to report what he knew. But he didn't have enough independent proof."
I took a slow breath.
"We need a lawyer."
Mom nodded.
The next morning, I contacted an attorney named Rachel Morgan.
She specialized in employment disputes and financial misconduct cases.
I had met her through a community legal workshop several months earlier.
At the time, I never imagined I would need her help.
Now I sat in her office with Mom beside me and a metal box full of documents.
Rachel listened without interrupting.
I explained the dinner.
The photograph.
My father's history.
Then Mom placed the USB drive on the desk.
Rachel studied it.
"We shouldn't access this casually."
"Can you help us?"
"Yes. We'll preserve the device and have a qualified forensic specialist examine it."
She explained that the recording from the restaurant also required careful handling.
New York's recording laws could raise questions depending on how it was made, who participated, and whether proper consent existed.
I listened.
I hadn't wanted to break the law.
I wanted the truth.
Rachel assured me that preserving original materials and obtaining legal advice was the right next step.
Then she asked something that surprised me.
"Why were you carrying a recorder at dinner?"
I looked down.
For a moment, I considered giving a simple answer.
But I was finished hiding things.
"Because I suspected Kenji was lying."
Mom turned toward me.
"Three weeks ago, I served another private meeting."
Rachel leaned forward.
"Who attended?"
"Two employees from Takahashi Global and a financial adviser."
I explained that they had spoken in Japanese throughout the meal.
They assumed I couldn't understand.
But I heard them discussing how a new American partnership could absorb losses from older investments.
One man joked that the Americans would never notice the difference.
I was disturbed.
I started researching the company.
That's when I discovered that Kenji had been connected to my father's former employer.
I hadn't told Mom because I didn't want to reopen her grief without evidence.
Rachel nodded slowly.
"And you decided to record the next meeting?"
I looked at Mom.
"I'm sorry."
She shook her head.
"You were trying to understand."
Rachel remained serious.
"We need to examine what was recorded and how. Don't distribute the audio or post it online."
"I won't."
She continued.
"And don't confront Kenji again."
I thought about his threat.
I agreed.
Later that afternoon, Rachel's forensic specialist examined the USB drive.
He created a protected copy and documented its condition.
Then he opened the files in a controlled environment.
There were spreadsheets.
Financial reports.
Email archives.
And one video.
The video had been recorded by my father.
I stared at the screen.
His face appeared.
Older than I remembered.
Tired.
But unmistakably him.
"Dad."
He looked directly into the camera.
"If anyone is watching this, I need you to understand that I didn't steal from Takahashi International Finance."
He continued.
"I discovered records showing investor money being transferred into accounts connected to private companies controlled by senior executives."
He paused.
"I reported those transfers because I believed people were being deceived."
I gripped Mom's hand.
My father looked exhausted.
"But after I raised concerns, documents disappeared. My access was revoked. And the company accused me of misconduct."
He swallowed.
"I have preserved copies of the records I reviewed before my termination. They need independent verification."
He looked down.
Then he raised his eyes again.
"Naomi, if you're watching this, I'm sorry I brought so much pain into our home."