In the bottom drawer, under a stack of old tax returns, my fingers hit something hard.

It was a small, black metal cash box.

I pulled it out and set it on the desk.

The lock on the box was simple, the kind that could be opened with a paperclip.

I opened the top drawer again and grabbed a thick, vinyl-coated paperclip.

My hands shook so badly that I dropped it twice on the desk.

“Come on,” I whispered to myself.

I straightened the metal and inserted it into the lock, twisting it the way I had seen Richard do once when he lost his diary key.

With a sharp pop, the metal latch released.

I opened the lid.

Inside were several thick manila folders bound with heavy rubber bands.

I pulled out the first folder.

The label on the tab was blank.

I slid the rubber band off and opened it.

The first page was a copy of Claire’s birth certificate.

I stared at the names printed on the thick paper.

*Claire Louise Vance.*

*Mother: Rose Marie Gallagher.*

*Father: Unknown.*