He tested the brass key in the small lock fixed to the boards. It slid in smoothly and turned with surprising ease, as though waiting for him. His breath hitched as the door creaked open, revealing a small reinforced chamber—its walls steel-lined, its purpose clearly meant for secrecy.
Inside stood racks of water-damaged ledgers, sealed tins, and a reinforced steel chest bolted securely to the floor. Rowan’s heartbeat thudded in his ears. This, undeniably, was a vault—hidden and untouched for decades. The air inside felt thick with stories.