The interior of the bank was dark and eerie, the teller stations casting long shadows across the polished marble floor.

We walked down the narrow stairs to the basement vault.

The massive steel door loomed ahead of us in the gloom.

Arthur inserted two keys into the control panel, turning them simultaneously.

With a heavy, mechanical groan, the vault door swung open.

The air inside was cool and smelled of old paper and metal.

We walked past rows of brass boxes until we reached number 412.

“Do you have the key?” Arthur asked.

I pulled the small brass key from my pocket and handed it to him.

He inserted it alongside his master key, and the lock turned with a satisfying click.

He pulled the long metal box from the slot and set it on the viewing table.

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Arthur said, stepping out of the vault to keep watch at the door.

My hands shook as I lifted the lid of the box.

Inside lay a thick, leather-bound book, its edges worn with age.

It was the original ledger of the Hart Family Safeguard Trust.