“Stop him!” Charles shouted to his guards.

But Trevor was already slamming his office door shut, the lock clicking into place.

Then, the emergency exit door at the end of the hall rattled loudly.

The alarm began to blare.

We ran down the corridor, but the back alley door was swinging open, letting in a gust of freezing wind.

Trevor was gone.

Charles walked past the open exit and stopped in front of Trevor’s locked office door.

“He left in a hurry,” Charles said, his eyes dark. “He is hiding something.”

He pointed to the heavy wooden door.

“We need to get inside.”

I stared at the lock, my heart pounding as I thought of my father’s letter.

I reached for the spare key ring in my apron.

I slid the key into the lock and turned it.

The heavy door slowly swung open, revealing the dark, quiet office.

I stepped inside, my boots clicking on the dusty floorboards.

The smell of stale coffee and old paper filled the cramped room.

On the wall behind the desk, a metal filing cabinet stood slightly ajar.