Several old articles were laid out before Karina, scattered across the table—each penned by the same journalist: William Camus.
They weren't particularly important, nor significant in the grand scheme of things. But that wasn't what mattered.
"Is there nothing on his final work?" Karina asked, eyes scanning the papers.
"No," Alex replied. "As I said, it was discarded."
"Then what?" she snapped. "Am I just supposed to take your word for it?"
"I wasn't particularly close to your father, Miss Maeril," Alex said calmly. "But what I can tell you is this. I'm likely the only person still alive who knew what he was investigating before he disappeared."
Karina's eyes narrowed, but she remained silent.
"In any case, yes," Alex continued. "He was tracking Vanitas Astrea. That was his last known activity. And while I'm reluctant to admit it… it didn't strike me as anything significant at the time. I was more focused on everything else happening then."
"Like what?"
