The elevator chimed again.

The doors slid open.

But it wasn’t the police.

A tall, slender man in a grey suit stepped out.

He carried a leather briefcase and had a small silver pin on his lapel.

He looked at the scene before him—Nathan holding Richard, Jane crying, the board members in shock.

The man didn’t look surprised at all.

He adjusted his glasses and looked directly at me.

My phone buzzed in my hand again.

I looked down at the screen.

The unknown number had sent one more message.

*He is here.*

“Mr. Hayes,” Richard breathed, his voice cracking under the strain of Nathan’s grip.

Mr. Hayes walked past the glass partitions, his steps quiet on the thick carpet.

“Good afternoon, Richard,” Mr. Hayes said.

He set his leather briefcase on the mahogany conference table.

The brass latches clicked open with a sharp, metallic sound.

“I believe you have some documents that belong to the estate, Emily,” he said, turning his gaze to me.

I held the thick parchment envelope tighter against my chest, feeling the stiff edges press into my skin.