The charity hall had been a shell of blackened timber and cracked brick for five long years.

It was the place where my family’s legacy had burned, and where my father’s reputation had been destroyed by Beatrice’s lies.

“We shouldn’t go in without the police, Audrey,” Liam said, his voice tense as he navigated a sharp turn onto the coastal highway.

“We don’t have time,” I said, looking at him. “You heard her voice. She was terrified. If Beatrice finds her first…”

I didn’t finish the sentence.

We both knew what Beatrice Langford was capable of when cornered.

The woman who had stolen my inheritance and framed my father wouldn’t hesitate to silence her own daughter to protect her secrets.

The ocean appeared to our left, a vast, churning blackness under the stormy sky.

The wind buffeted the heavy SUV, pushing us slightly across the lane as we sped north.

“The ledger must have proof of the insurance fraud,” Liam said, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “And the offshore accounts Darrow set up.”

“If Chloe has it, she has everything we need to lock Beatrice away forever,” I said.