Chapter 25 · Under the Ashford

The vault door was heavier than Vivian expected.

James had his shoulder against it, pushing. The mechanism groaned. Vivian threw her weight in too. Her father had been dead for three hours. Her dress still smelled like hospital disinfectant.

The door swung open. Cold air hit her face.

"How long do we have?" she whispered.

James checked his watch. "Roy's car left the estate twenty minutes ago. He'll come here first. Maybe thirty minutes. Maybe less."

The vault was smaller than she remembered. She'd been down here once as a child, holding her father's hand. It had felt enormous then. Now it was just a concrete room with metal filing cabinets and a desk that looked like it hadn't been moved since the hotel opened.

Silas was already at the cabinets, pulling drawers. His hands moved fast. Too fast. Like he'd done this before.

"What are we looking for?" James asked.

Vivian didn't answer. She didn't know. Her father's last words had been barely a whisper. "Vault. Under the Ashford. The night Daniel died. It's all there."

Then his hand had gone slack in hers.

"Anything from 1920," Silas said. He didn't look up. "Spring. April or May.