The sleepless nights

The city never slept, and neither did Elena Rivera. Her midnight oil burned brightly as she hunched over her cluttered desk, a faint glow from the streetlight outside casting long shadows across her cramped apartment. The hum of distant traffic was a constant reminder of the life she had chosen — chaotic, unpredictable, and exhilarating.

Her eyes scanned the cryptic email on her laptop screen for what felt like the hundredth time. The message had arrived without fanfare, slipping into her inbox like a whisper in the dark:

"There's more to Blackwood's empire than meets the eye. Follow the money. A friend."

Elena leaned back in her chair, the worn leather creaking beneath her. She chewed her lower lip, a habit she couldn't shake since childhood, when she had first dreamed of uncovering the world's hidden truths. Victor Blackwood. The name was synonymous with power and wealth, a modern-day Midas whose touch turned everything to gold — or so the world believed.

"Maya," Elena called, her voice carrying a hint of urgency. She didn't have to wait long. Maya Chen appeared in the doorway, her dyed purple hair tied up in a messy bun, sporting an oversized sweater emblazoned with a pixelated cat.

"What’s up?" Maya asked, plopping down onto the sofa with an air of casual curiosity, her glasses slipping slightly down her nose.

Elena gestured to the screen. "I got a tip. A cryptic one, about Blackwood. Someone's telling me to follow the money."

Maya leaned forward, her eyes twinkling with intrigue. "Interesting. Could be a prank, but it could also be legit. You know how these things go."

"Exactly. But if there's any truth to it, this could be huge. We both know Blackwood's financials are tightly sealed. It won’t be easy to dig into them."

"That's where I come in," Maya grinned, tapping her temple playfully. "You do the legwork, and I'll handle the digital breadcrumbs."

Elena nodded, grateful for her friend’s unwavering support. They had been through thick and thin together, their bond forged in the crucible of countless investigations. Together, they had cracked mysteries that others had deemed unsolvable, their partnership a testament to trust and tenacity.

The following morning, the city greeted them with a brisk wind, the kind that carried the scent of autumn and whispered promises of change. Elena wrapped her trench coat tighter around her as she navigated the bustling streets, every step a reminder of the chase she had committed to.

Her first stop was Professor Edward Harris's home, a quaint, ivy-covered cottage just outside the city. The scent of aged paper and polished wood greeted her as she entered his study, the walls lined with books that chronicled the darker facets of human nature.

"Elena," Professor Harris greeted with a warm smile, his eyes crinkling behind wire-rimmed glasses. "To what do I owe the pleasure this early?"

She took a seat across from him, feeling the familiar comfort of their weekly meetings. "I need your insight, Professor. I've stumbled upon something regarding Victor Blackwood. I got a tip, but it’s vague. I need to know how to approach this without getting tangled in a web of deceit."

Harris leaned back, steepling his fingers thoughtfully. "Blackwood is a formidable figure. He didn’t build his empire without making enemies. However, the truth often lies hidden beneath layers of deception. Patience and caution will be your allies."

Elena nodded, absorbing his advice like a sponge. "Do you think there's a chance this tip is genuine? That there’s something more sinister at play?"

Harris's expression grew pensive. "In my experience, where there's smoke, there’s often fire. But it’s crucial to differentiate between the smoke caused by a genuine blaze and that of a smoke screen."

Leaving the professor’s study, Elena felt invigorated. His words lingered in her mind, a reminder to tread carefully as she delved deeper into the shadows of Blackwood’s empire.

Over the next few days, Elena and Maya worked tirelessly, piecing together fragments of information, their efforts driven by a shared determination. They combed through financial records, scrutinized business transactions, and analyzed every public statement Blackwood had made over the years.

It was a week later, during one of their late-night sessions, that Maya finally struck gold. Her fingers flew over the keyboard, pulling up a series of offshore accounts linked to shell companies, all with ties to Blackwood Enterprises.

"Elena," Maya whispered, her voice barely containing her excitement. "I think I found something. These accounts... they’re not just hidden. They’re buried."

Elena leaned over, her eyes scanning the data with growing disbelief. "There's enough here to suggest something illegal. But we need more. We need to connect this to Blackwood himself."

Maya nodded, her brow furrowed in concentration. "And that's exactly what we'll do. I’ll keep digging. There’s a trail here, I can feel it."

As the night wore on, Elena found herself staring out the window, the cityscape a mosaic of lights twinkling against the velvety darkness. Her thoughts drifted to the tip that had set them on this path. Who was this mysterious friend? And what stake did they have in exposing Blackwood’s secrets?

Her phone buzzed, breaking the silence. A new message, this time a video link:

"Watch closely. The truth is just beneath the surface."

Elena’s heart pounded as she clicked the link, the screen flickering to life with grainy footage of a clandestine meeting. Two figures, obscured by shadows, exchanged documents and whispered words of conspiracy. Victor Blackwood’s unmistakable silhouette loomed large, his voice clear.

The realization hit her like a cold wave. She was on the verge of uncovering a story that could shake the very foundations of Blackwood’s empire. But with every revelation came a new layer of danger, and Elena knew she was just beginning to scratch the surface.

The sleepless nights were far from over.

The morning light crept into Elena's apartment, casting long shadows across her cluttered desk. The video from the night before replayed in her mind, the grainy images and hushed voices lingering like a ghost she couldn’t shake. She sipped her coffee, bitter and black, a reflection of the weight she felt pressing down on her.

Maya arrived, her usual vibrant attire replaced by a subdued ensemble of grays and blacks. She set her laptop on the table, her eyes focused and intent. "I found something," she announced without preamble, her fingers dancing over the keyboard with practiced precision.

Elena leaned forward, both eager and apprehensive. "Tell me everything."

"The second figure in the video," Maya began, glancing up to meet Elena's gaze. "I ran some facial recognition software. It's Henry Caldwell."

Elena's brows knitted together. "Caldwell... the real estate magnate?"

"Exactly," Maya confirmed, her voice laced with satisfaction. "He's been a key player in Blackwood's land acquisitions. If we can prove he’s involved in something illegal, we might have a direct link to Blackwood."

A ripple of anticipation coursed through Elena. "How do we get closer?"

Maya grinned, a mischievous glint in her eye. "That's where my skills come in handy. I've hacked into Caldwell's calendar. He has a charity gala this weekend. It’s the perfect opportunity to snoop around."

Elena nodded, her mind already racing with possibilities. "I'll need an invitation."

"Leave it to me," Maya replied confidently. "By tonight, you'll be on the guest list."

As Maya packed up her things, Elena’s phone buzzed again. Another message from the mysterious informant: "To unveil the truth, sometimes you must walk in the shadows."

The cryptic message only fueled Elena’s determination. She glanced at Maya. "We’re going to need some help from Professor Harris. He's always been able to see what others miss."

The old university, with its towering stone facades and ivy-clad walls, was a sanctuary of sorts. Professor Harris's office was a haven of books and papers, the scent of old leather and ink a comforting balm. He welcomed Elena and Maya with a warm smile, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

"Elena, Maya, come in, come in," he gestured enthusiastically, clearing a space amidst the scholarly clutter. "What brings you to this humble abode?"

Elena wasted no time, recounting the events of the past few days, the video, and the looming gala. Professor Harris listened intently, nodding occasionally, his fingers steepled thoughtfully.

"Victor Blackwood is a man who knows how to cover his tracks," Harris mused, his voice a deep, reflective hum. "But every empire has its cracks. You must find where his actions diverge from his carefully crafted image."

Maya leaned forward. "We think the gala might reveal something. Caldwell's presence could be our in."

Harris’s eyes sparkled with appreciation for their tenacity. "Indeed, these events often hide more than they reveal. Watch the people, not just the spectacle. Connections are made in whispers."

Elena smiled, feeling the familiar blend of excitement and trepidation. "Thank you, Professor. Your insights are, as always, invaluable."

As they left the office, Maya turned to Elena, her voice tinged with admiration. "Harris is quite the sage. I see why you trust him."

Elena chuckled softly. "He's the reason I became a journalist. He taught me to see beyond the obvious, to question everything."

The day of the gala arrived, and Elena found herself enveloped in the opulence of the event. The grand ballroom was a sea of glittering chandeliers and elegantly dressed guests, the air thick with the scent of perfume and polished wood. She moved gracefully through the crowd, her vintage trench replaced by a sleek evening gown that allowed her to blend seamlessly into the elite gathering.

Maya, disguised as a photographer, flitted around the room, her camera a guise for her true mission. She winked at Elena, signaling that all was proceeding according to plan.

Elena spotted Caldwell across the room, deep in conversation with a group of influential figures. She maneuvered closer, her ears attuned to their whispered exchanges. Words of investments and acquisitions floated through the air, veiled references to "the project" sparking her interest.

Suddenly, a hand on her arm startled her. She turned to face a man with a roguish smile and a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Elena Rivera, I presume?"

Her heart skipped a beat. "And you are?"

"Marcus Langston," he replied smoothly, his gaze steady and disarming. "Financial journalist. I've been following your work. Quite impressive."

Elena, ever cautious, maintained her composure. "Thank you, Marcus. What brings you to this gala?"

He shrugged, his smile widening. "The same thing that brings you, I imagine. Curiosity, and perhaps a story worth telling."

Before Elena could probe further, a commotion erupted near the entrance. Caldwell, visibly agitated, was engaged in a heated exchange with an unseen figure. Elena strained to hear, catching snatches of their argument about "unforeseen delays" and "escalating costs."

The exchange ended abruptly, Caldwell storming off, his face a mask of fury. Elena’s instincts prickled. This was a thread worth pulling.

As the night wound down, Elena and Maya reconvened outside the ballroom, the evening's revelations hanging between them like an unsolved riddle.

"Did you catch that argument?" Elena asked, her mind already piecing together the implications.

Maya nodded, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of the chase. "I’ve got it recorded. We’ll analyze it later."

Elena's phone buzzed again, drawing her attention. Another message from the mysterious source: "The past holds the key. Dig deeper."

As they stepped into the cool night air, Elena felt the weight of the journey ahead. The shadows of the past loomed larger than ever, and she knew the answers she sought would not come easily. But with each step, she was closer to unraveling the truth that could bring Victor Blackwood’s empire crashing down.

The sleepless nights, it seemed, were only just beginning.

The city's glow reflected off the rain-slicked streets as Elena and Maya made their way back to her apartment. The brisk night air carried a mix of damp concrete and distant exhaust, grounding Elena in the gritty reality of her pursuit. She felt her determination simmering beneath her skin, fueled by the cryptic message and the evening’s events.

Once inside, Maya immediately set up her laptop on the small, cluttered dining table, her fingers flying over the keyboard. The room was filled with the low hum of the computer and the occasional clink as Maya adjusted her glasses with one hand, typing with the other.

Elena shrugged off her trench coat and settled into the armchair, her mind replaying the evening’s encounters. Caldwell’s argument gnawed at her thoughts like a persistent itch. “Can you enhance the audio on that recording?” she asked, her voice tinged with anticipation.

“Already on it,” Maya replied, her eyes reflecting the screen’s glow. “I’ll isolate the background noise and try to amplify their voices. Shouldn’t take long.”

Elena nodded, her gaze drifting to the small window where the city lights flickered like distant stars. The message on her phone played over in her mind: "The past holds the key. Dig deeper." It was both a challenge and a riddle, urging her to delve into the history she’d barely scratched.

Minutes later, Maya gestured to the screen. “Got it. Let’s see what our friend Caldwell was so worked up about.”

The audio crackled to life, the sound quality still imperfect but discernible. Caldwell’s voice, taut with frustration, came through clearly. “You promised this wouldn’t happen! Delays like these are unacceptable. Do you know what this will cost us?”

The response was quieter, almost a whisper, but Elena caught the edges of a distinct accent. “We have no choice. The shipment is delayed because of unforeseen circumstances. We need to adjust or risk exposure.”

Elena leaned forward, her pulse quickening. “Shipment? What could they possibly be moving at that scale?”

“Whatever it is, it’s big enough to cause a stir,” Maya mused, her fingers tapping absently against the table. “And the mention of exposure—sounds like they’re involved in something they don’t want anyone to know about.”

Elena’s mind was racing, possibilities colliding as she drew connections. She reached for her phone, her thumb hovering over Professor Harris’s contact. If anyone could provide insight into the cryptic message and Caldwell’s heated exchange, it would be him.

“Professor Harris,” she said once he answered, her voice steady, “I need your expertise. I came across something tonight that might be linked to Blackwood’s operations. It’s… complex.”

“Ah, Elena,” Harris replied, his voice a soothing balm of familiarity. “I was wondering when you’d call. Tell me what you’ve uncovered.”

As Elena relayed the details, Harris listened intently, occasionally murmuring in acknowledgment. When she finished, he paused, considering his words carefully. “The past holds many secrets, Elena. Blackwood’s empire was built on more than just financial acumen. His father, Raymond Blackwood, was known for his shadowy dealings, some of which were never brought to light.”

Elena’s thoughts snapped into focus. “You think Victor inherited more than just his father’s wealth?”

“Precisely,” Harris replied. “Follow the trail, and you may find that the sins of the father are indeed visited upon the son. Look into Raymond’s connections, especially those that trace back to the origins of their wealth.”

After ending the call, Elena shared the professor’s insights with Maya. “We need to dig into the Blackwood family’s history. There’s something there, something that ties into what’s happening now.”

Maya’s eyes sparkled with intrigue. “I’ll start sifting through archives and old news articles. Maybe there’s something everyone else missed.”

The night stretched on, the hours slipping by unnoticed as Elena and Maya delved deeper into the digital archives. Files blinked open on the screen, revealing sepia-toned photographs and yellowed newspaper clippings. The tale of Raymond Blackwood unfolded—a narrative of ambition, betrayal, and alliances with dubious figures.

As dawn crept over the horizon, casting a pale light across the city, Elena’s screen displayed a photograph that caught her breath. It was a younger Raymond Blackwood, his arm draped around a man whose face was eerily familiar. The name beneath the photo confirmed her suspicions: Alejandro Rivera.

Her heart thudded painfully. Her father, a man she’d believed lived a simple, honest life, had been entwined with the Blackwood legacy. The implications were staggering, and Elena felt her world tilt, the ground beneath her shifting as if to swallow her whole.

“Elena, are you okay?” Maya’s voice cut through the haze of shock.

“I… I had no idea,” Elena stammered, her voice barely a whisper. “My father… What was he involved in?”

Maya’s expression softened, a mix of empathy and resolve. “We’ll figure it out. Whatever this is, we’ll get to the bottom of it.”

Elena nodded, determination hardening within her. The path ahead was fraught with personal stakes and potential dangers, but she couldn’t turn back now. Too much was at risk, and the truth, as always, was non-negotiable.

As the first rays of sunlight touched the city, Elena knew that her pursuit of justice had become deeply personal. The shadows of her past had merged with the present, and the answers she sought lay somewhere in the tangled web of deceit that Victor Blackwood had spun.

But as the morning light banished the remnants of night, another message appeared on her phone. This one was different, more urgent: “Meet me where it all began. It’s time you knew the truth.”

The hook was baited, and Elena’s resolve was unshakable. The past was calling, and she was ready to uncover its secrets, no matter the cost.

The city had long since woken up, its streets buzzing with the rhythm of morning traffic, but Elena's mind was adrift in the currents of the past. The message on her phone felt like a lifeline thrown into the chaos, yet it was also a rope that could pull her deeper into the unknown. "Meet me where it all began." The words echoed in her thoughts as she stared out the window of Maya's cluttered apartment.

Maya, seated cross-legged on the floor, was sifting through a pile of printed documents with the intensity of a detective on the brink of a breakthrough. "You sure you want to do this, Elena?" she asked, glancing up over the rim of her glasses. Her voice was a mix of concern and curiosity.

Elena nodded, a determined fire in her eyes. "I don't have a choice, Maya. This might be the key to everything."

Maya sighed, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose. "Just be careful, okay? Whoever sent that message knows more than they're letting on."

Elena appreciated Maya's worry, but caution had to take a back seat to necessity. "I will. I promise."

The place where it all began was an old, disused warehouse on the outskirts of the city. It was the kind of place that had stories seeped into its walls, where echoes of past transactions and hurried whispers lingered like ghosts. As Elena approached, her heart pounded a steady rhythm of anticipation and fear.

The warehouse loomed ahead, its corrugated metal exterior rusted in places, graffiti splashed across its sides in vibrant, chaotic patterns. She hesitated at the entrance, the air thick with the scent of rain-soaked concrete and something metallic. The message had been cryptic, but it was clear that this was where she needed to be.

Inside, the dim light filtered through broken windows, casting fragmented shadows that danced across the floor. She took a deep breath, her footsteps echoing softly as she ventured deeper into the belly of the structure.

“Hello?” Elena called out, her voice bouncing off the cavernous walls.

Silence answered her. For a moment, doubt crept in, whispering that she had been lured into a trap or a fool's errand. Then, a figure emerged from the shadows, stepping into the faint light.

It was a man, his features partially obscured by the hood of his jacket. Yet, there was something familiar about the way he moved, a subtle grace that spoke of confidence and purpose.

“Thank you for coming, Elena,” he said, his voice low and steady.

“Who are you?” she demanded, her journalistic instincts flaring to life.

He pulled back his hood, revealing a face that was weathered but not unkind. His eyes, however, held a sadness that seemed to stretch across decades. “My name is Daniel. Daniel Rivera.”

The name hit her like a punch to the gut. Elena staggered back a step, disbelief etched into her features. “Rivera? But… my father—”

“Was my brother,” Daniel interrupted gently, his gaze unwavering. “I’m your uncle.”

The revelation hung in the air, heavy and disorienting. Elena struggled to reconcile this new piece of her history with the narrative she had always known. “Why haven’t I ever heard of you?”

Daniel’s expression was pained, his hands fidgeting as if trying to grasp something intangible. “Your father and I had a falling out many years ago. It was… complicated.”

“Complicated how?” Elena pressed, her tone a mix of skepticism and hope.

He sighed deeply, his eyes reflecting a lifetime of regret. “We were both involved with Victor Blackwood’s business when it was still in its infancy. Things changed when Victor’s ambitions turned darker. Your father tried to get out, but Victor… he doesn’t let go easily.”

Elena felt the pieces of her past rearranging in her mind, forming a picture she didn’t want to see. “So, what happened?”

“Your dad found a way to leave, but it cost him everything. Victor made sure we were both persona non grata in the business world. I disappeared to protect myself, and your father… he tried to give you a normal life.”

Elena’s breath caught in her throat, the implications of her uncle’s words settling over her like a shroud. “And now? Why contact me now?”

Daniel’s gaze hardened with resolve. “Because Victor’s empire is built on lies, and it’s time someone exposed him. Your father would have wanted that.”

The weight of her father’s legacy pressed heavily on Elena’s shoulders, but beneath it all was a burning drive to uncover the truth. “How do I know you’re not just another part of his web?”

“You don’t,” Daniel admitted, his voice tinged with the honesty of a man who had nothing left to lose. “But you can trust your instincts, Elena. They’ve brought you this far.”

She studied him, searching for any sign of deceit, but all she found was a man who had lived too long in the shadows. “What do you want from me?”

“To finish what your father started. I have information that can help, but it’s dangerous. Victor has eyes everywhere.”

Elena nodded, the decision clear in her mind. “Then we’ll have to be smarter, quicker, and one step ahead.”

A slight smile tugged at Daniel’s lips, a flicker of hope kindled in the depths of his eyes. “Your father would be proud.”

As they made their way back towards the entrance, Elena felt a new sense of purpose surging through her. The truth was no longer just a professional pursuit; it was personal. And she would uncover it, even if it meant confronting the darkest corners of her own history.

But just as they reached the threshold, a sudden noise shattered the quiet. The unmistakable sound of footsteps—deliberate and closing in fast.

Elena’s heart leapt into her throat, and she exchanged a quick, alarmed glance with Daniel. The game had changed, and now, more than ever, every move could be their last.

Elena and Daniel exchanged a look of urgency and understanding. The footsteps drew nearer, echoing in the dimly lit corridor of the abandoned warehouse. Elena’s mind raced, calculating options, but there was only one clear path: escape.

“Quick, this way,” Daniel whispered, his voice barely audible over the cacophony of her beating heart. He gestured towards a narrow passageway at the far end of the room, obscured by stacks of forgotten crates and dust-laden tarps.

Elena followed, her senses heightened, every sound amplified in the oppressive silence. They moved swiftly, their footsteps muffled by the years of grime that blanketed the floor. Her mind flickered back to the conversation with Daniel, to the revelations that had turned her understanding of her father’s legacy on its head. She could feel the weight of unfinished business bearing down on her.

The passageway opened into a small room, its only feature a rickety metal staircase spiraling upwards. Daniel motioned for her to ascend. As she climbed, the air grew cooler, signaling their proximity to an exit. She could hear the distant hum of the city, a promise of safety beyond the confines of the warehouse.

At the top, they emerged onto a rooftop bathed in moonlight, the city sprawling beneath them like a sea of flickering stars. Elena paused for a moment, catching her breath, the adrenaline slowly ebbing away.

“Did you hear that?” Daniel asked, his voice tense, eyes scanning the horizon.

Elena listened intently, the night air sharp against her skin. A faint buzzing, unmistakable now—the sound of a drone. Victor’s eyes, indeed. They needed to move.

“Over there,” Elena pointed to a fire escape on the far side of the building. “We can make it to the street from there.”

They crossed the rooftop, careful to remain in the shadows. As they descended the fire escape, the drone’s whirring grew louder, its searchlight sweeping the rooftop they had just vacated. Elena’s heart pounded in rhythm with their hurried descent.

The street below was mercifully quiet. A lone streetlamp flickered, casting an eerie glow on the cracked pavement. They hit the ground running, slipping into the anonymity of the night. Elena’s mind churned with questions, but she knew they had to get to safety before they could strategize.

After several blocks of wary silence, they ducked into a small alleyway, its brick walls offering a semblance of security. Daniel leaned against the cool surface, drawing deep breaths to steady himself.

“That was close,” he admitted, a hint of relief in his voice. “Victor’s reach is wider than I imagined.”

Elena nodded, her thoughts already turning to the information Daniel had promised. “We need to regroup, figure out our next move.”

Daniel nodded, retrieving a folded piece of paper from his coat pocket. “This will lead you to the next piece of the puzzle. But be careful, Elena. Victor won’t be the only one watching.”

The paper felt heavy in her hand, a tangible link to her father’s unfinished quest. She carefully unfolded it, revealing a series of coordinates and a cryptic message: “Trust the past to guide you.”

Elena studied the note, the significance of her father’s words not lost on her. She had always been guided by the pursuit of truth, but now, the path was fraught with personal stakes.

“I’ll be in touch,” Daniel said, his voice breaking through her contemplation. “We’ll need to keep our meetings unpredictable.”

Elena nodded, understanding the necessity of caution. As Daniel disappeared into the night, she felt the familiar pull of determination. The truth was out there, buried beneath layers of deceit and manipulation, and she was more resolved than ever to uncover it.

Back in her apartment, the city’s nocturnal symphony played out softly beyond her window. She sank into her chair, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. The midnight call to action was clear—she needed to decipher the coordinates, and for that, she needed Maya.

Picking up her phone, Elena dialed Maya’s number, the digits an old comfort. The line rang twice before Maya’s voice, bright even in the late hour, greeted her.

“Elena! What’s up? Shouldn’t you be sleeping like a normal person?”

Elena smiled despite herself. “Normal got left behind a few warehouses ago. I need your help, Maya. I’ve got some coordinates and I think they might lead us to something big.”

“I’m all ears,” Maya replied, her interest piqued. “Coordinates, you say? My favorite kind of puzzle.”

Elena relayed the numbers, listening to the rapid clatter of Maya’s typing on the other end. Her friend’s ability to make sense of digital chaos had always amazed her.

“Got it,” Maya said after a moment. “They point to an old estate on the outskirts of the city. Abandoned, but it’s got a history. Something about a family scandal from the early 1900s. I can dig up more if you want.”

“That would be perfect. I have a feeling this estate holds the next clue to Victor’s empire.”

Maya chuckled softly, her voice laced with admiration. “You’re relentless, Elena. Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I will,” Elena assured her, though the path ahead was anything but certain. “Thanks, Maya. I’ll fill you in on the details tomorrow.”

As she hung up, Elena allowed herself a moment of stillness, the city’s rhythm a steady backdrop to her thoughts. The mystery was deepening, and with every revelation, the threads connecting her to Victor and her father grew more tangled.

But in the quiet of her apartment, with the moon casting its gentle glow, Elena felt something she hadn’t in a long time—a sense of purpose, of clarity. The midnight call had been answered, and the truth was within her grasp.

Yet, as she closed her eyes, a new question emerged, one that lingered, insistent and unresolved: What price would she be willing to pay for the answers she sought?