I tucked the photograph into the front pocket of my backpack.

Suddenly, a bright beam of light swept across the high, narrow window of the basement.

I froze, pressing my back against the cold metal of the filing cabinet.

The sound of tires crunching on gravel echoed from the driveway above.

A car engine cut out, and the headlights flickered off, plunging the basement back into shadow.

I held my breath, listening.

Two car doors slammed in quick succession.

“I don’t care about the mud, Graham,” Celeste’s voice was sharp, cutting through the damp night air. “We need to make sure the library is cleared out before the appraisers arrive tomorrow.”

“The locks are changed, Celeste,” Graham replied, his voice closer now. “Clara can’t get in here without violating the court order. She’s not stupid enough to risk jail.”

“She is her grandmother’s granddaughter,” Celeste said. “She is stubborn, and she is desperate.”

Their footsteps sounded on the wooden porch directly above my head.

The heavy front door creaked open, and the floorboards groaned under their weight.

I looked around the dark basement, searching for another way out.