Vivian had once suggested converting it to store archived legal material.

My housekeeper still had the extra key.

I called her, then apologized for interrupting her evening.

She told me exactly where the spare was kept.

Inside were several files in Vivian’s handwriting.

One contained an unsigned consulting agreement involving a company named Eastgate Advisory.

Another held a sealed envelope, now creased, addressed to me in Meredith’s unmistakable hand.

The red wax was broken.