Fiona Roland's heart lurched violently, her fingernails digging into her palms without conscious thought.

She forced composure as she waved at the waiter. "That will be all for now."

The waiter bowed and retreated, leaving the private dining room in eerie silence.

Jenna Roland tapped her chopsticks twice against her bowl before speaking abruptly. "Uncle Victor, you still have my parents' suicide note, don't you?"

Victor Roland froze mid-bite, his chopsticks suspended in air. Deep furrows appeared between his brows. "Why bring this up now?"

"Just occurred to me." Jenna poked at her rice. "Five years ago you claimed to have burned it. But something never added up."

Victor's expression darkened as he set down his chopsticks and wiped his mouth. "Why dredge up ancient history?"

"Suicide notes..." Jenna lifted her gaze to meet his directly, "are written by people expecting to die. My parents died in a car crash. When would they have had time to write one?"

Fiona's soup spoon clattered into her bowl.

Victor's temple vein bulged. "What exactly are you implying?"

"Take it literally." Jenna's smile turned icy. "My brother verified the handwriting. It wasn't our father's. And we all know who benefited."

Victor slammed the table. "Preposterous! That note was in your father's bedroom! I never had access to your house keys!"

"What about the orchard then?" Jenna pressed relentlessly. "Why was it secretly transferred to your name?"

Sean Roland gaped at his father. "Dad...is this true?"

"You know nothing!" Victor snapped before forcing a conciliatory smile at Jenna. "You'll marry eventually. We couldn't let the orchard go to outsiders..."

Jenna clenched her fists until her nails drew blood. The surveillance footage of her parents still lay in her bag. Tonight's performance had only just begun.