And then he walked to his own office door, and he locked it, and the click of the bolt was startlingly loud in the sudden quiet.

“Miss Palmer,” he said, turning back to me with an expression I could not read.

“You need to sit down.”

I did not sit down.

“What is this box?” I asked him, gently.

He looked at the dark carved wood of it, and then back at me, and he swallowed.