Chapter 3 - The Key My Father Left Behind
Finn closed his fingers around the key.
Footsteps sounded near the stairs.
We moved into the pantry.
My heart beat against my ribs.
"Where did you find it?"
"Inside an old toolbox."
"Whose toolbox?"
"The one they told me to throw away."
I held out my hand.
The brass was cold.
Dad had written my name in blue ink.
I knew the shape of every letter.
"He was here," I whispered.
Finn looked confused.
"Your dad worked here?"
"He never told me."
A cart rattled past outside.
We waited until the sound faded.
"What does it open?" Finn asked.
"I don't know."
He pointed to a stamped number.
"Looks like a storage locker."
I slipped the key into my pocket.
For two years, I had followed rules.
That night, I broke the first one.
I left the servants' wing after midnight.
Finn waited near the service gate.
He had borrowed a rusted pickup.
"You can still turn back," he said.
I climbed in.
"Drive."
The locker facility stood beside the river.
Its lights flickered in the mist.
The number matched a narrow blue door.
My hand shook as I turned the key.
Inside were three boxes.
A faded winter coat.
And a photograph of my father.
He stood beside Roman Costa's father.
Both men were smiling.
On the back, someone had written:
WE WERE PARTNERS BEFORE WE WERE ENEMIES.
Finn read it over my shoulder.
"Norah, there's more."
At the bottom lay a cassette recorder.
Its battery compartment was empty.
Beside it sat an envelope.
I opened the envelope carefully.
The letter began with my name.
My father's handwriting blurred through tears.
He had known someone would come after him.
He had hidden records of stolen shipments.
And he had written one instruction.
DON'T TRUST THE MAN WHO CLAIMS I OWED HIM.
A vehicle stopped outside.
Headlights swept across the open locker.
Finn grabbed my wrist.
"We need to go."
A familiar voice called from the parking lot.
May you like
"Norah. Bring me what your father left."
It was Vale.
