They slipped into a cab Calder hailed with uncanny precision, giving the driver an address before Evan could speak. During the ride, Evan studied the key in his palm—old, ornate, heavy. Nothing about it matched Calder’s rushed explanations. The unease inside him grew, whispering: What if this was hidden for me?
The cab dropped them near an industrial district. Calder walked with determined familiarity, not a hint of hesitation, as if the streets belonged to him. Evan followed, his mind racing. If Calder had hidden the key himself, when and how had he hidden it?