The lock had been drilled out, and the door was standing slightly ajar.

Beneath the photo was a text.

*We know you aren’t here, Ava. But we found what you left behind.*

I stared at the screen, my thumb hovering over the glass.

The photo of my ruined lock made my chest tighten.

“Arthur,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “Look at this.”

I turned the phone toward him.

His eyes narrowed as he read the message, his brow furrowing deep.

“We need to get to your campus right now,” he said.

He stood up, grabbing his heavy wool coat from the back of the chair.

I gathered the copies of the estate documents with trembling hands.

The paper felt cold and thin against my fingertips.

“Who is the notary, Arthur?” I asked as we hurried toward the office door.

“It is Marcus Vance,” he said, opening the door to the hallway. “Your father’s chief financial officer.”

My heart sank even lower.

Marcus Vance had been my father’s loyal shadow for twenty years.

He had helped my father cover up Brandon’s previous financial disasters.