The Crimson Seal and the Shadow of the Obsidian Lounge
If I didn’t cancel it by midnight tomorrow, the decryption keys would go straight to Vincent’s personal server.
I pulled the dark evening gown from the closet.
The silk was cold against my skin as I pulled it on.
I zipped it up with shaking fingers.
I found a pair of black flats in the back of the closet; heels would make too much noise on the marble floors.
The estate was quiet, but the security cameras were always active.
I knew the blind spots because I had spent weeks watching the monitors in Vincent’s study.
There was a three-minute gap in the southern courtyard patrol during the shift change at midnight.
I checked my watch: eleven fifty-seven.
I slipped out of my room and glided down the back staircase.
The air in the lower corridor was drafty and smelled of floor wax.
I reached the side door that led to the greenhouse.
My fingers trembled as I turned the brass lock.
It clicked, sounding incredibly loud in the empty hall.
I waited, holding my breath, but no alarms sounded.
I slipped outside into the cool night air.