Nathan’s boots appeared first, dangling from the narrow opening.

He dropped down silently, landing on the balls of his feet.

His face was smudged with black grease and drywall dust.

His hands were trembling slightly, but his jaw was set tight.

He looked at me, then down at his four daughters.

“Are they okay?” he whispered, his voice barely a breath.

I nodded, tightening my arms around Grace and Sophie.

“They’re cold, Nathan,” I whispered back.

The temperature in the room was dropping fast.

The blizzard outside was howling against the concrete outer shell of the mansion.

We could hear the wind screaming through the structural pillars.

Nathan knelt beside us, touching Lily’s forehead with the back of his hand.

“I have to go to the terminal,” he said.

He pointed to the small, metallic desk built into the far corner of the vault.

A single computer monitor flickered there, casting a pale blue glow over the grey walls.

“She wants the master keys,” I said, my voice shaking. “If you give them to her, she controls everything Claire built.”

“I know,” Nathan said.