I remembered the night before Garrett died.

He had been sitting in his favorite leather chair, looking out at the rain.

He had held my hand and whispered something to me.

At the time, I thought he was just dreaming.

But now, looking at the room, the memory came back with sudden clarity.

“Under the floorboards,” he had murmured. “Where the light hits the floor at noon.”

I looked down at the dark oak floor.

The rain outside was too heavy for any sunlight to break through today.

But I knew exactly where the sun fell at midday.

It was right in front of the liquor cabinet, near the old globe.

I walked toward the globe, my heart hammering against my ribs.

Victoria watched me, her eyes tracking my every movement.

“What are you doing?” she asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.

“Nothing,” I said, trying to keep my voice calm.

“She knows where it is,” Charles whispered, moving toward me.

“Stay back, Charles,” Arthur said, stepping into his path.

I reached the globe and knelt down on the cold floor.