“Tell me he didn’t get in, Jennifer,” I said, my voice dropping to a whisper so low Ivy didn’t even stir against my shoulder.
“The security system is holding,” Jennifer replied, her typing audible over the line. “The guards turned him away at the gate, but his lawyer is threatening a court order within twelve hours. Tessa, what is on that lower level?”
I looked down at the photograph in my trembling hands—at the faded, scratched-out figure standing beside my mother, and the heavy wooden door built straight into the Boulder granite.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Because
