The fog had grown even thicker, turning the palace grounds into a sea of white mist.

I walked quickly, my boots crunching loudly on the gravel path.

I needed to find those financial records before Whitmore realized we were closing in on him.

I entered the palace through the side door and made my way down to the basement archives.

The air downstairs was dry and smelled of old paper and dust.

I found the room labeled with the royal crest.

The heavy oak door was locked, but I used the master keycard Alaric’s head of security had given me.

The lock clicked open.

I stepped inside and turned on the overhead fluorescent lights, which buzzed to life.

Row after row of metal filing cabinets filled the narrow space.

I searched for the cabinet marked with Whitmore’s name.

After ten minutes of digging, I found a dusty leather ledger hidden behind a stack of old land deeds.

I pulled it out and set it on a wooden table.

I opened the ledger to the pages corresponding to the month of my father’s death.