I leaned over and flipped the page in the ledger under the dim screen light.

My eyes fell on a document taped to the back cover.

It was a modern printout, signed and dated.

At the bottom of the page, in shaky blue ink, was Caroline’s signature.

The document was an agreement to clear the north ridge graves quietly.

“Caroline,” I whispered, my heart freezing.

She looked away, burying her face in her hands.

Before I could speak, my phone screen flashed with another incoming notification.

The incoming call on my screen was from Lydia Crane.

I tapped the screen to answer, keeping Warren on hold on the other line.

“Clara,” Lydia said, her voice sharp over the static. “I just got a tip about Warren Bellamy’s office filing an expedited permit for the north ridge.”

“They’re trying to move before we can stop them,” I said, looking at Caroline’s tear-stained face.

“If they get that permit signed tonight, the county won’t be able to halt the excavation tomorrow,” Lydia said.

“I have the proof, Lydia,” I said. “The ledger has Caroline’s signature on a modern agreement to clear the graves.”