She looked back at the trash bag she’d just destroyed, then at the others still waiting in the shadows. Her pulse quickened—not with fear, but with the pull of something deeper. This wasn’t junk. This was planted. Claire stood up, clutching the key tight.
Her hands trembled—not from cold, but from the impossible realization building inside her. There was more here. And whatever it was, her father had wanted her to find it. Claire didn’t waste time.