There were deep scratches on the back, as if someone had tried to file away a serial number.

The edges of the metal were sharp and cold against my skin.

“Did he say what this opens?” I asked.

“He only said you’d need it to find the truth,” Elias said.

“He knew you’d come looking for answers when they let you out.”

I turned the key over in my hand.

There were four words engraved on the polished front.

The letters were stamped deep into the solid metal and filled with black ink so they stood out clearly against the silver finish.