“Because Brandon is already there,” he said. “And he isn’t alone.”

“Who is he with?” I asked, my hand tightening on the steering wheel of my sedan.

“Your father’s personal attorney, and a notary,” Arthur said.

“They are trying to access your room to retrieve the thumb drives.”

I looked back at the house.

The front door flew open.

My father marched out onto the wet porch, his face purple with rage.

“Ava!” he roared, pointing a finger at me.

“Get back inside this house right now.”

I ignored him, keeping my eyes on the gravel driveway.

“I’m hanging up, Mr. Pendelton,” I whispered.

“I’ll call you when I’m closer to campus.”

“Keep your doors locked, Ava,” Arthur said before the line went dead.

My father descended the porch steps, his shoes splashing in the puddles.

“You think you’re clever, stealing those files?” he hissed, stopping inches from my car door.

I threw my duffel bag into the back seat and faced him.

“They aren’t your files, Dad,” I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

“They belong to Grandma’s estate.”