I grabbed the handle of the top drawer and pulled, but it was locked tight with a heavy cylinder lock.

“We don’t have the key,” Eleanor said, panic rising in her voice.

“I’ll find something to pry it open,” I said, scanning the floor for a tool.

I spotted a heavy steel crowbar resting against the base of the nearby shelving unit.

As I reached for the crowbar, the lights in the warehouse flickered once and went completely out.

Only the blue glow of the computer monitor and our flashlights remained.

Then, the heavy steel door at the entrance of the warehouse clicked.

The sound of the lock disengaging echoed through the quiet space.

I turned my light toward the front entrance.

The green light on the keypad had turned to a flashing red.

Outside, the distant sound of an approaching engine began to grow louder.

I gripped the cold steel of the crowbar.

The metal felt heavy in my hands, rough with rust along the shaft.

“Eleanor, hold the flashlight on the lock,” I whispered.

My mother’s hand shook, sending the beam of light dancing across the gray steel cabinet.