“Did you find anything?” I asked, my chest tightening.

“We are in his private suite on the top floor,” Sullivan said. “My team is going through his desk right now.”

“Look behind the oak bookcase,” I told him, remembering a night two years ago when I had walked into Ethan’s office unexpectedly. “There is a small panel on the lower right side.”

There was a brief pause on the line.

I heard the distant rustle of papers and Sullivan speaking to another officer.

“We found it,” Sullivan said, his tone sharpening. “It’s a keypads-locked wall safe.”

“Do you need a locksmith?” I asked.

“No, we brought a specialist with us,” he replied. “Give us two minutes.”

I held my breath, listening to the static on the line.

Rachel watched my face, her brow furrowed with worry.

The hospital room felt incredibly small, the smell of rubbing alcohol and sterile sheets wrapping around me like a shroud.

“They’re in,” Sullivan said suddenly.

I heard the metallic clink of a safe door swinging open.

“What is in there?” I asked.

“A lot of files,” Sullivan said. “And a black ledger.”