“Are you ready for what we might find?” I asked.

“If your father was involved from the beginning, his name will be dragged through the mud.”

“His legacy will be ruined.”

Alexander looked out the window again, his reflection ghosted against the dark glass.

“My father built his own cage,” he said.

“I am not going to die in it.”

Suddenly, the screen on my laptop flickered.

A red warning dialog box popped up in the center of the desktop.

A small, digital timer began to count down from sixty seconds.

“What is that?” Alexander asked, leaning in.

“A remote trace,” I said, my heart skipping a beat.

“Someone just recognized the legacy key activation.”

My fingers raced across the keyboard, trying to cut the connection, but the keys were unresponsive.

The camera on the top of my laptop lid blinked green once.

Someone was watching us.

“Shut it down,” Alexander said.

I slammed the laptop screen closed.

I pulled the battery out of the casing with a sharp click.

The green light on the camera vanished, but the silence in the room felt heavy now.