He said he was securing their future. Then the archive room burned. Then he disappeared.

Lauren sat down again. “What town?” Claire named it. Lauren covered her mouth. Ethan turned away. He had shown Lauren the same photographs. He had described the same white house.

He had even used the same phrase — a life where no one knew them. Perhaps he’d found the images online years ago. Perhaps the house never existed.

The promise was just another document he reused.

Lauren began to cry — not loudly, one hand pressed to her face, staring at the table as the truth settled around her. Ethan showed no sympathy. He was studying the open briefcase, still believing something inside might reveal where I’d taken the original lockbox.

Claire noticed. “You won’t find it here.”