That night, I couldn’t sleep.

Not because of the usual nightmares—those had dulled into background noise by now. No, this time, it was reality that clung to my skin like static. The bitter truth that the McLarens were still sipping on thousand-dollar wine glasses in their mansion, oblivious to the fact that they were already drowning. Their family name was rotting from the inside out, their financial empire a few nudges away from collapse.

And yet, they were still breathing easy.

Still ...