As I stood by the sink, looking out at the dark ocean, my phone on the counter suddenly buzzed.

It was an unknown number.

I hesitated, then picked it up and swiped to answer.

“Hello?” I said.

There was static on the line, and then a hurried, desperate voice spoke.

“Clara, you have to listen to me,” the voice said.

It was Vanessa, but she wasn’t crying anymore; she sounded terrified.

“They are searching Daniel’s safe house right now,” she whispered.

“But they missed something.”

“What are you talking about?” I asked, my grip tightening on the phone.

“The black ledger,” she said.

“The one with the real offshore accounts, the ones he didn’t even tell his mother about.”

“Why are you telling me this, Vanessa?” I asked.

“Because he left it in the glove box of my car, and the police just towed it to the municipal impound lot,” she said.

“If his mother gets to it first, she’ll burn it.”

“Why are you telling me this, Vanessa?” I asked.