The flashlight beam caught the edges of the document in my hand.

I held it up so Liam could see the forged signature at the bottom.

My own name, written in a perfect imitation of my handwriting from three years ago.

“Beatrice knew you would be at that fundraiser with me,” I said, looking at Liam. “She wanted us both in that building when it burned.”

Liam looked at the paper, his jaw tightening.

The muscle in his cheek twitched.

“She wanted to wipe out the entire family line in one night,” he said.

The speakerphone on the desk crackled again.

“Sir? Are you there?” the security guard’s voice was distorted by static. “We’ve lost power to the entire executive floor.”

“I’m here,” Liam said, leaning over the desk. “Lock down the stairwells.”

“We are trying, sir, but the electronic locks have been bypassed from the inside,” the guard replied.

The line went dead with a sharp click.

Darrow took a step backward, toward the heavy wooden door of the office.

“She’s coming for the documents,” Darrow whispered, his eyes wide with genuine fear. “She knows we have the original ledgers.”