I stared at the keypad, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps.

My phone suddenly lit up in my pocket, the screen casting a bright blue glow against the closet wall.

I slid the phone out of my pocket.

Dina’s name flashed across the screen.

I pressed the receiver to my ear, my knuckles white against the plastic.

“Dina?” I whispered, my voice sounding thin in the empty closet.

“Emma, thank goodness you answered,” Dina said, her voice low and frantic.

“I’m at the cottage,” I said. “I found the safe under the floorboards.”

I heard a sharp intake of breath on the other end of the line.

“Is it there?” she asked. “The digital keypad?”

“Yes,” I said, touching the cold metal casing. “But I don’t have the combination.”

“I have it,” Dina said quickly. “Or at least, I think I have the key to it.”

I leaned my head against the doorframe, closing my eyes. “How?”

“After you left, I went back into the basement archives,” Dina said.

“I knew your father kept a duplicate log of all the security installations from the early nineties.”