“He was,” the liaison replied. “But he was also connected to a long-standing program linked to major infrastructure work. Some people were compensated through arrangements that continued over time.”
Then he said the words that made my mouth go dry.
“You are the beneficiary.”
I remember gripping the edge of the table.
“How much is in it?” I asked, expecting an amount I could barely imagine, perhaps enough to cover a few months of rent.
He took a slow breath.
“Based on the records,” he said, “the account includes holdings valued around $8.4 billion.”
I felt the room tilt.
Billion. Not million.
I stared at him, certain I had misunderstood.
He repeated it, calmly.
And I realized my father had not been dramatic. He had been protecting something.
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