It had been sealed off with wood and plaster, forgotten by everyone except the man who paid the bills.

I found the seam in the concrete wall behind the wooden shelving.

I grabbed a iron crowbar resting against the generator frame.

With a hard shove, I cleared the shelves, sending metal cans clattering to the floor.

I jammed the crowbar into the plaster seam.

The old dry mortar crumbled easily, revealing a dark, narrow passage that smelled of damp earth and old lime.

This path would lead me behind the mercenary guards currently assembling outside our door.

I could flank them while they focused on the vault.

I looked back at Lila one last time.

“Keep her quiet,” I whispered to Nora.

Nora nodded, holding the child tightly against her chest.

I stepped into the dark gap in the wall.

The air was freezing, and the floor was rough, unpolished stone.

I kept my hand on the cold wall to guide myself through the pitch blackness.

The sounds of the vault door being battered faded behind me, replaced by the heavy drip of water.