I had stepped back, clutching Lily’s diaper bag tighter against my chest.

“I don’t have anything to say to you, Mr. Hayes,” I had told him. “You helped him hide my daughter.”

Hayes had looked down at the wet pavement, his shoulders tense.

“I did,” he had murmured. “And it is the greatest regret of my professional life.”

He had reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black plastic card with a magnetic strip.

“Richard is going to the estate tonight,” Hayes had whispered, pressing the cold plastic into my hand. “He knows the audit is coming. He is going to clear out the private vault.”

“The vault?” I had asked, looking at the card.

“It is behind the wine cellar,” Hayes had said. “The security is entirely separate from the house system. This card will get you in.”

He had looked me in the eyes, his expression filled with a quiet, desperate sincerity.

“The real trust documents are in there, Emily. The ones Richard altered after Lily was born. You need to get them before he burns them.”