Carl had discovered references to those rooms twenty years earlier.
Lenora had spent decades trying to acquire the Bennett ridge because she believed Lucas had hidden copies of the records there.
She had misunderstood.
The ridge was a distraction.
The originals had remained beneath her own home.
“The documents belong to me,” Lenora said.
“No,” Daniel replied. “Evidence belongs to history.”
Carl’s voice went on.
“Claire, the key to the lower archive is inside the silver bracelet bearing your name. Lucas placed it there the night before the boat f/i/re. Evelyn carried it when she escaped.”
I pulled the bracelet from my pocket.
Its clasp was unusually thick.
Daniel twisted it. A tiny metal key slid free.
Lenora moved toward us.
The remaining loyal guard blocked her path—not protecting her now, but preventing her from reaching me.
“You cannot open those rooms,” she said. “The foundations are unstable.”
