“Marcus, please,” I said, taking a step toward the gate.

“This is my mother’s legacy. They stole this place from her.”

“That’s not my business,” Marcus said.

He stepped back, leaving us locked in the dark room.

“I’ll be waiting at the top of the stairs.”

His footsteps faded away, leaving us in silence.

I looked at the iron gate.

It was locked tight.

“What do we do?” Mr. Alvarez asked, his voice shaking.

“If Nico finds us with these papers, we are finished.”

I reached into my pocket and touched the parchment deed.

I could feel the raised gold seal through the fabric.

I looked around the small cellar room.

The only way out was the gate.

But there was a small coal chute near the ceiling, covered by a rusted metal grate.

“Look up there,” I whispered, pointing the flashlight at the chute.

“Does that lead to the street?”

“It leads to the alley behind the kitchen,” Mr. Alvarez said.

“But it is very narrow.”

“We have to try,” I said.

I pulled a wooden crate over to the wall and climbed up.