Chapter 7
Panic hummed through her veins, but her outward demeanor remained as calm and composed as a seasoned intelligence operative.
She pressed her palm flat against the cold wood, noting the slight smudge marks left behind by Arthur's ringed finger earlier that morning.
Suddenly, a soft rustle behind her made Chloe spin around with feline agility, her heart skipping a beat against her ribs.
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It was Lily, standing quietly in her pink slippers, holding a small, silver brass key she had fished from her father's study desk.
"Daddy drops this when he gets angry at the telephone," Lily whispered, her large eyes filled with a terrifying, mature understanding.
