“I saw her car down the street,” he said. “She has the original trust documents with her.”

“The ones that prove the property was never Claire’s to sell.”

“With those documents, I can clear the debt,” he whispered, his expression turning desperate.

“They’ll accept the transfer of the historic trust if I have the original signatures.”

“You can’t transfer a trust that isn’t yours, Ethan,” Daniel said quietly.

“I can do whatever I want once she signs the quitclaim,” Ethan hissed.

He looked around the hallway, his eyes settling on the closet door at the end of the hall.

The slatted wood of the door was slightly vibrating.

Megan was inside, and she was terrified.

“Who else is up here?” Ethan asked, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.

“Nobody,” I said quickly, trying to step between him and the closet. “Just us.”

Ethan didn’t believe me.

He lunged forward, grabbing my upper arm with a grip like iron.

The metal of the gun pressed cold against my temple.

“Don’t touch her,” Daniel growled, raising the wooden spindle.