“Let’s go,” I whispered, my voice cold and determined.

We hurried down the remaining stairs and slipped into the shadows of the north parlor.

The room was dark, the furniture covered in white dust sheets that looked like ghosts in the moonlight.

A single lamp burned on a small writing desk in the corner.

A moment later, the side door opened, and Grace stepped inside, carrying a leather briefcase.

She looked at the three of us, her sharp eyes taking in the tension in the room.

“I have the document,” Grace said, placing her briefcase on the desk.

She opened it and pulled out a single sheet of paper.

“This is a conditional release,” she said, looking directly at Sloane.

“It states that Vivian Bennett will not pursue legal action against Sloane Whitaker regarding the unauthorized possession of the Celestia gown.”

“On the condition that the information provided leads to the successful cancellation of the unauthorized trust transfer.”

“If the password is fake, or if the transfer goes through, this agreement is void.”

Sloane stepped forward, her hand reaching for the pen on the desk.