I looked out the window at the warehouse, its dark shape slowly disappearing into the white storm.

The red and blue lights flickered against the brick walls, a silent warning to the empty street.

And the phone in my hand began to vibrate once more, the screen glowing blue.

It was a text message from a blocked number.

“The castle is ours,” the message read.

“But the promise is yours to keep.”

I looked at Ethan, who was holding Lauren close, his eyes closed as he rested his head against the seat.

And beside him, Mary Grace Fitzgerald sat in silence, her hand resting on her daughter’s knee.

The storm outside raged on, but the car was warm and quiet.

And the road ahead was still dark, waiting for the morning to come.

I closed my eyes and held the gold key tight in my hand, the metal cold against my skin.

We had survived the night, but the secrets were still out there, waiting in the snow.

And the man who had built the castle on lies was now our only hope of finding the truth.