Calvin opened the heavy steel door before I could even reach for my keys.

His gray beard was dusted with snow, and he held a steaming mug of black coffee.

“You look like hell, kid,” Calvin said, stepping aside to let me in.

“The lawyers are moving fast,” I said, stamping my feet on the rubber mat.

“We need to get the offline backup drives and the physical ledger books.”

He frowned, setting his mug down on a nearby metal desk.

“They’re trying to lock you out already?”

“My father is filing for an emergency injunction,” I said.

“If the courts grant it, the digital accounts will be frozen by morning.”

“Let’s get to it then,” Calvin said, pulling a heavy brass ring of keys from his belt loop.

We walked down the long, concrete corridor toward the administrative offices.

The warehouse behind us was silent, the rows of high metal shelving stretching into the shadows.

The smell of cardboard, diesel fuel, and old dust hung heavy in the air.

We reached the back office, and Calvin unlocked the heavy deadbolt.