The global network of the Callahan family was currently listening.

I looked up at Victoria, my fingers tightening on the ledger.

“If you take this,” I said, “the truth still survives.”

Victoria took a slow, deliberate step toward me.

Her eyes were fixed on the leather book.

“There is no truth, Natalie,” she said.

“Only who is left standing to tell the story.”

She reached out her hand, her black glove stopping just inches from the ledger.

Behind her, in the shadows near the open door, a small red light suddenly glowed on the dashboard of the parked town car.

It was the notification screen of Victoria’s own secure tablet, lighting up with an incoming alert.

At the same moment, the second guard’s phone began to vibrate violently in his pocket.

The sound of the ringtone was loud in the silence of the warehouse.

Victoria paused, her hand still extended.

She slowly turned her head toward her guard.

“What is that?” she demanded.

The guard reached into his jacket and pulled out his device.

His face turned completely pale as he looked at the screen.