It didn’t have a keyhole, but a digital keypad on the front.

The screen was blank.

I pressed a button, and the screen lit up with a soft blue glow.

I stared at the buttons, trying to think.

What code would Nathan use?

I tried his birthday.

A red light flashed, and a quiet beep signaled an error.

I tried Lily’s birthday.

Another red light.

I looked over at Eleanor sleeping on the bed.

I thought about the old house she had mentioned.

The house they lived in before the fire.

I reached for the lockbox again, my fingers hovering over the keys.

I entered the date of the fire, a date I had found in an old newspaper clipping months ago.

The lockbox emitted a soft click, and the green light flashed.

I held my breath and lifted the lid.

Inside, there were no old family photos or keys to floorboards.

There was a stack of thick paper folders.

Beside them lay several amber glass vials with typed labels.

I picked up the first vial.