A figure was standing by the driver’s side, holding an umbrella.

The yellow light from the dashboard illuminated a pale, bearded face.

“Arthur, someone is down there,” I said.

Arthur stood up, his hand reaching for his briefcase.

“We need to go down,” he said.

We left my room, locking the damaged door as best we could with the broken deadbolt.

The stairwell felt cold and drafty.

When we reached the lobby, the glass doors were wet with condensation.

I pushed them open and stepped into the cold air.

The rain was coming down harder now, splashing against my boots.

The figure with the umbrella didn’t move.

As we approached, he lowered the umbrella slightly.

His coat was soaked, and his eyes were dark and hollow.

“Ava,” he said.

“Are you Julian?” I asked.

He nodded slowly.

“I was your brother’s partner,” he said. “Until he and your father put all their debt under my name.”

“Why do you have the will?” Arthur asked, stepping in front of me.

“Your grandmother knew what they were doing,” Julian said. “She didn’t trust them.”