The room was dark, save for the pale moonlight filtering through the heavy drapes.

I didn’t dare turn on the desk lamp.

Instead, I pulled my phone from my pocket and turned on the flashlight, keeping my thumb over the lens to muffle the glare.

The thin beam of light swept across the room.

It illuminated the neat rows of medical textbooks on the shelves.

It showed the polished leather chairs and the heavy mahogany desk.

Everything in Nathan’s life was perfectly organized, controlled, and sterile.

I walked over to the desk.

The drawers were locked.

I knew Nathan kept his keys on the dresser upstairs, but I also knew he had a spare set.

I knelt down and felt along the underside of the heavy desk drawer.

My fingers brushed against a small, magnetic plastic box stuck to the wooden frame.

I pulled it free and slid the lid open.

Inside was a single silver key.

I inserted the key into the lock of the bottom drawer.

It turned with a satisfying, muffled click.

I pulled the drawer open.