Chapter 20 · The Third Name in Dad's Room

"Move."

I shoved Calder toward the rust-eaten door at the end of the alley. Finn was leaning hard on the brick behind us, one hand pressed to his ribs, breathing like he'd swallowed glass.

"Mara." Calder didn't budge. His claws scraped the pavement. "You don't know what's in there."

"I know it's the only place Seraphine hasn't burned yet." I yanked the cuff. The chain went taut between us, and he hissed through his teeth. "So move, or I drag you."

He moved.

The door was older than the tenement above it. No lock—just a ward-seal stamped into the frame, half-peeled and leaking cold. I pressed my palm to it. The mark flared once, then crumbled. Dad's signature, keyed to my blood. He'd wanted me to find this.

That thought made my chest hurt worse than the cuff.

Inside, the air smelled like burnt paper and old iron. The room was narrow, barely wide enough for a desk and two chairs. Shelves lined the walls, packed with files and glass vials that glowed faint green in the dark. A single bulb hung from the ceiling, dead.

Calder stepped in behind me.