Madison wore Emily’s robe and slapped her in front of her daughter.

The words had barely left her mouth when we heard heavy footsteps in the hallway.

Multiple sets. Coming fast.

“Hide.” Ethan moved instantly. “Into the study closet. Behind the false panel. Now.”

“Who are they?” David demanded.

“No time!” Ethan grabbed my arm. “Go! All of you!”

We scrambled toward the rear wall of the study. Ethan pulled aside a heavy tapestry, revealing a narrow door built into the wood paneling. He pushed us through—me first, then David, then the woman who had called herself Rachel—and followed, pulling the door shut just as the study’s main door burst open.

We stood in total darkness, pressed shoulder to shoulder in a space barely large enough for four people. Through a thin crack in the paneling, we could see into the study.

Two men entered. They wore dark coats and moved with quiet, purposeful efficiency. They did not look around in confusion. They knew exactly what they were looking for.

One walked straight to the desk. He saw the scattered papers, the open drawer, the empty space where the letter and will had been—David had stuffed them into his pocket during the scramble.

He spoke into a radio at his shoulder. “Subjects are gone. Evidence is missing.”

The second man scanned the room. His gaze paused on the shattered glass, then on the carpet where the gun had been dropped.

“Search the room.” His voice was deep and authoritative. “Check every inch. They cannot have gone far.”

I held my breath, my heart hammering against my ribs. Beside me, the woman who had called herself Rachel trembled. Ethan placed a hand on her arm to steady her. David gripped the pistol tight.

Then the lead man stopped. He turned slowly toward the wall where we stood hidden.

“Check behind the tapestry.”

My blood turned to ice.

The second man walked toward us. He drew closer. I could see his boots through the crack. He reached out—

And a loud crash echoed from the hallway outside.

Both men froze.

“Something in the kitchen,” the second man said.

“Go see.” The lead man nodded toward the door. “Report back.”

As the second man turned and hurried out, the lead man hesitated, then turned away from our hiding spot and walked toward the window.

“We will find them.” He spoke into his radio. “Secure the perimeter. No one leaves.”

Then he stepped out and pulled the door shut.

We stood in the darkness for a long time, none of us daring to breathe. When we were certain they were gone, Ethan pushed the hidden door open just enough to let us slip out.

“We need to move.” Ethan led us through a narrow passageway that connected the study to the library. “They will search systematically. This entire wing is compromised.”

We reached the library and stepped inside. Ethan locked the door and pushed a heavy bookcase in front of it. Only then did he turn to the woman who had called herself Rachel.

“Who are they?”

She leaned against a bookshelf, breathing hard.

“People who work for the same organization that sent me.” She pulled a small silver pin from her coat—a design of intertwined serpents. “They do not fail. And they do not leave witnesses.”

“Your name.” Ethan stepped closer. “Your real name.”

She hesitated. Then she looked at David—who stood pale and silent, still holding the gun—and spoke.

“Elena.” She took a breath. “My name is Elena.”

“Elena…” David said the name slowly. “Everything you told me… every memory… every promise…”

“Was part of the assignment.” She looked away. “But I told you—I did not expect complications.”

“Complications?” David’s voice cracked. “You married me. You lived in my house. You shared my bed. And all the time—”

“All the time I was trying to find out what Richard did to my brother!” She turned back to him, her voice rising. “And the deeper I looked—the more I began to realize that none of this is what I was told!”

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“It means…” She took a breath. “It means the people who sent me—the ones who claim Richard killed my brother—they are hiding things too. They knew Ethan would return. They knew about the box. They knew about the letters. And they sent me to retrieve everything before you could piece it together.”

“So they are afraid of what we will find out.” Ethan leaned against the desk. “Which means Richard was telling the truth.”

“Or at least—there is more than one side to this story.” Elena looked at all three of us. “I can help you.”

“Help us?” David laughed bitterly. “You held us at gunpoint! You threatened my mother!”

“Because I thought I had to do it alone!” She stepped toward him. “But those men out there—they will kill all of you. They will kill me too, for failing. I know their methods. I know their patterns. I know what they are looking for and how they think.” She paused. “And I know where the third piece of the puzzle is hidden.”

We all went quiet.

“You know?” I asked.

“Richard wrote: The truth is in the place where we were happiest.” Elena looked at me. “Where was that place, Margaret? Where did you and Richard go when you needed to be away from everyone?”