The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

I walked toward the door, my hand reaching for the heavy brass latch.

My father took a step toward me, his face twisted in anger.

“Don’t touch that door,” he ordered.

I ignored him and pulled the latch.

The door swung open, letting in a blast of freezing wind and a flurry of white snow.

Calvin stood on the porch, his face pale and his chest heaving.

“Calvin, what is it?” I asked.

He looked past me at my father, his eyes dark with worry.

“The warehouse,” Calvin said, his voice tight. “Someone just broke into the main office.”

I stared at him, the cold air freezing the breath in my throat.

“What?” I whispered.

“They didn’t take the money, Avery,” Calvin said, stepping into the cabin.

“What did they take?” I asked.

Calvin looked directly at my father.

“They took Elliot’s personal safe,” Calvin said. “The one with the original will.”

I felt the blood drain from my face.

“The safe?” I repeated, my voice barely audible over the wind.