“Daniel, you scared me,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. “What happened to the lights?”

“The main power line for the block just went down,” Daniel said. “Arthur is upstairs trying to talk to the security guard.”

He walked over to the viewing table and looked at the metal box.

“Did you find it?” he asked.

I pointed to the leather-bound book in my hands.

“It’s here,” I said. “The original ledger.”

Daniel pulled a small flashlight from his pocket and clicked it on.

The bright white beam cut through the red gloom, illuminating the worn cover of the book.

I set the ledger on the table and carefully opened the front cover.

On the first page, my mother’s elegant handwriting stood out in dark blue ink.

She had written the dates of every major contribution to the secondary trust.

As I turned the yellowed pages, a thick cream envelope slid out from the back sleeve.

My name was written on the front in her familiar hand.

My fingers trembled as I tore the top of the envelope.

“What is it?” Daniel asked, leaning closer.