The phone on the floor had slid closer to us as the desk shifted.

Through the wet wool, I could see the screen still glowing.

The video call was still connected.

The silhouette on the screen began to move.

The figure held up an object toward the camera.

It was a key.

A brass key with a distinctive swan crest on the bow.

My breath caught in my throat.

It was the key to Alexander’s private safe.

The safe that contained the sealed letter Eleanor had left behind.

The figure held the key close to the lens for several seconds.

Then, the screen went completely black.

The connection was severed.

The room was plunged into a dark, hot orange glow.

Suddenly, a massive thud shook the heavy study door.

It was not the sound of falling timber.

It was a heavy, rhythmic pounding from the outside.

“Ethan!” a voice roared through the wood.

It was Alexander.

His voice was stripped of its usual cold, billionaire composure.

It was the voice of a desperate father.

Another loud crash rattled the hinges of the reinforced door.