I opened the folder under the dim light of the desk lamp.

The first page was titled “The Last Will and Testament of Garrett Vance.”

Below it were pages of bank statements with Victoria and Charles’s names printed in bold.

The numbers showed massive, unauthorized transfers of money from Garrett’s business accounts.

They had been taking his money for years while he was sick.

Before I could turn the page, the front door downstairs opened with a soft click.

Footsteps began to move quickly across the marble foyer below.

I held my breath and froze.

The heavy manila folder felt like lead in my hands.

The footsteps on the marble stairs were sharp and fast.

I knew that click of high heels anywhere.

It was Victoria, and by the heavier, sluggish stride behind her, Charles was not far behind.

I looked down at the open safe in the floorboards.

I could not close the heavy iron door without making a loud, metallic clang.

Instead, I gripped the folder and the black ledger tightly against my chest.

I stepped away from the desk and stood near the heavy velvet curtains of the window.