Maya's POV
"This is crazy," I whisper as Ethan picks the lock on James Walsh's office door.
It's 2 AM. The building is empty. Dark. Security cameras disabled by Ethan's tech team.
We shouldn't be here. If we get caught, I lose Hope forever.
But I need to know the truth about my mother.
The lock clicks. Ethan pushes the door open.
"Stay behind me," he says.
We slip inside. The office still smells like death. Like blood. Like James.
Police tape crosses the room in yellow X's. Evidence markers dot the floor where James's body fell.
My stomach turns. "I can't do this."
"Yes, you can." Ethan takes my hand. "For Hope. For your mother. For all of us."
He's right. I take a deep breath. Force myself forward.
"The portrait," Ethan says, pointing to the wall behind the desk.
It's a painting of an old man. James's father, probably. Stern face. Cold eyes. Just like James.
Ethan lifts the portrait off the wall. Behind it, embedded in the wall, is a safe.
