# CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE — BoughtShe went back to it in the morning, clear-headed, coffee in hand, Julian across the desk instead of on the floor beside her, both of them treating the laptop between them like something that might go off if handled wrong."I need to trace the account further back," Tessa said, arriving before either of them had finished their first cup, already pulling a chair up to the desk. "Whoever set up that intermediary had to fund it from somewhere real eventually. Shell accounts don't create money out of nothing — they just make it harder to see where it started."It took her most of the morning.Josie worked alongside her, cross-referencing, running the account numbers against every ledger fragment she'd assembled over six weeks — the Meridian transfers, the payroll file for a woman who didn't exist, the torn page from a storage unit in Queens. Julian paced, mostly, unable to sit still, the particular restlessness of a man watching a puzzle assemble itself arou
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