Row upon row of small metal doors lined the walls.

Brenda located box four-twelve, inserted our key alongside her master key, and turned them both.

The lock clicked open.

She pulled out a long, grey metal box and carried it to a private viewing booth.

“Take your time,” Brenda said, closing the door behind her.

Marisol and I stood over the metal box.

I reached out and lifted the lid.

Inside were several manila envelopes and a small black USB drive.

I picked up the first envelope and opened it.

It contained copies of bank statements from an offshore account in the Cayman Islands.

The name on the account was Derek’s, but the authorized signer was Stephanie.

“Look at these transfers,” Marisol whispered, pointing at the numbers. “Fifty thousand here. Eighty thousand there.”

“He was moving the money while I was in the hospital,” I said, my voice trembling.

I picked up the USB drive. It was heavy, made of metal.

“We need to copy everything on this,” Marisol said.

I put the envelopes and the USB drive into my large tote bag.