I looked around the room, at the dark wood paneling and the built-in bookshelves.

This house held so many secrets, and now they were all crashing down at once.

Outside, the headlights of the parked car suddenly flashed twice.

The bright beams cut through the heavy rain, illuminating the interior of the foyer.

We all froze, watching the light bounce off the walls.

“She’s here,” Rose whispered.

“We need to find those documents before she does,” Daniel said.

“Where are they?” I asked.

“Your grandfather had a private study on the second floor,” Rose said.

“There is a hidden compartment behind the wainscoting near the window,” Rose said.

“I remember him working in there late at night when I was a child,” Rose said.

“Let’s go,” Daniel said, moving toward the grand staircase.

Before we could step onto the first stair, we heard a key turn in the front lock.

The heavy oak door swung open with a loud creak.

The wind howled, spraying rainwater across the hardwood floor.

A figure stood in the doorway, silhouetted by the lightning outside.

It was Aunt Claire, holding a dripping black umbrella.