Every shadow seemed to stretch and move against the marble pillars.

Ruby leaned her head against my shoulder, her eyes wide as she stared at the giant steel grilles.

“It looks like a prison,” she whispered.

“It is a prison for the dishonest,” Nathaniel replied, his voice carrying a cold edge.

Ten minutes passed in absolute silence.

I watched the rain run down the glass behind the metal bars, distorting the streetlights outside.

My hands were shaking, so I tucked them into my pockets, my fingers brushing against the worn edges of my own wallet.

I thought about the ledger Nathaniel had mentioned.

If we could get those papers, we could prove everything Arthur had done to the families at Brindlewood.

Suddenly, a sharp metallic clang echoed from the far end of the lobby.

Ruby jumped, her grip tightening on my arm.

Nathaniel did not flinch, but his shoulders tensed.

The heavy wooden door to the service corridor creaked open.

A figure stepped out into the dim light of the lobby, breathing heavily.

It was Arthur Dunleavy.

He was clutching a thick leather briefcase tightly against his chest.