Then another.
Someone had entered the tunnel behind them.
“Move!”
They ran.
Twenty-five minutes later, they were racing back toward the Grandview.
Anna drove.
Mark sat beside her.
Eleanor was in the rear seat, holding the photograph of the twins.
Two babies.
Two daughters.
One supposedly Chloe.
One missing.
Every truth seemed to create another lie beneath it.
“Tell me about Chloe,” Eleanor said.
Anna kept her eyes on the road.
“She was adopted after the fire.”
“By whom?”
“A family named Bennett.”
“Then why Mercer?”
“Marriage.”
Mark turned sharply.
“Wait.”
Anna glanced at him.
“What?”
“Chloe told me her parents died when she was twelve.”
Anna's grip tightened on the wheel.
“They didn't.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I saw her adoptive father three months ago.”
“Where?”
Anna looked toward the rearview mirror.
“Basement three.”
Mark went pale.
“Alive?”
Anna didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
The Grandview was surrounded by emergency vehicles when they arrived.
The fire had been extinguished.
Guests crowded the pavement.
Firefighters moved through the lobby.
Eleanor entered through the loading dock.
Daniel met them downstairs.
When he saw Anna, he froze.
“You.”
Anna stopped.
Eleanor looked between them.
“You know each other?”
Daniel stepped backward.
Anna's expression hardened.
“Daniel.”
His hand moved toward his pocket.
Mark grabbed him.
Daniel struggled.
Something fell from his jacket.
A black access card.
Anna picked it up.
Printed across the front was a silver symbol.
A key inside a circle.
Her face changed.
“The Curator.”
Daniel broke free.
He ran.
Mark chased him.
Daniel reached the service corridor—
and collapsed.
A dart protruded from his neck.
Eleanor spun around.
Nobody.
The shooter was gone.
Anna checked Daniel's pulse.
“Alive.”
Mark stared down the corridor.
“Someone just silenced him.”
“No,” Anna said.
She pulled the dart free.
“They put him to sleep.”
“Why?”
“Because they want us to keep going.”
Anna looked toward the freight elevator.
The doors were open.
Waiting.
They descended to basement three.
The elevator passed B1.
B2.
Then the display went blank.
The descent continued.
Ten seconds.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Mark whispered, “How deep is this place?”
Anna didn't answer.
Finally—
ding.
The doors opened.
A vast concrete corridor stretched before them.
Lights flickered on one after another.
At the far end stood a steel door.
Above it:
ARCHIVE
Eleanor approached.
The door was already unlocked.
Inside were thousands of shelves.
Boxes.
Film reels.
Photographs.
Hard drives.
Files.
Lives.
Secrets.
Mark picked up one folder.
A senator's name.
Another.
A police commissioner.
Another.
A billionaire.
“This could destroy half the city.”
Anna shook her head.
“More than the city.”
Eleanor noticed something.
One cabinet stood open.
Fresh footprints led toward it.
“Chloe.”
They followed.
Inside the cabinet were files labeled by year.
Then: