Chapter 10
The passage was colder than the office by ten degrees. The concrete sucked the heat out of my shoes and my ribs hurt where the ledger pressed against them. I had zipped it inside my coat, but the corner dug into my sternum every time I breathed.
Elena held the flashlight cupped against her palm, throwing a thin wash on the floor. We moved sideways. The walls were close enough that my shoulders brushed both sides. The wire along the ceiling hummed faintly.
Behind us, the panel door rattled. Someone hit it hard with the flat of a hand. The sound traveled down the wood like a drum.
"There's a seam here," a man's voice said from the office, muffled. "Painted over."
Elena didn't look back. She pushed forward faster, her maid's skirt catching on a nail head. She tugged it free. At the far end, the line of light under the utility room door got brighter. The dryer hummed and thumped with a load inside.
We reached the end. The door was metal, painted gray, with a deadbolt and a handle. Elena tried the handle. It didn't turn. She tried again, then felt around the frame.
"Daniel kept it locked from this side," she whispered. "He didn't want the suits using it."
My hand was on her back. I could feel her breathing fast through her uniform.
Behind us, a scraping sound started — something prying at the panel seam.
Elena shone the light on the deadbolt. It needed a key. Same brass key she'd used on the office panel. She fished it from her apron pocket, fingers shaking, and missed the keyhole once. The metal clicked against the plate.
I pressed the ledger tighter to my chest and looked back down the passage. Light was starting to bleed around the edges of the panel door as they worked it.
She got the key in. Turned. The bolt slid with a clack that sounded too loud.
She pushed. The utility room door stuck, then gave. Warm air rolled out smelling of detergent and dryer sheets. A bare bulb burned overhead. The laundry sink was right there, a double stainless basin with a hose, and beyond it the stacked washer and dryer shaking against the wall.
We slipped through. I turned and pulled the passage door shut behind us, locked it again from the utility side. The key stuck for a second. I had to jiggle it.
Through the door, we heard the panel in the office pop open with a crack.
Elena killed the flashlight. She pointed to the utility room's main door — a white interior door with a frosted window that led to the east hallway. Light moved beyond that window. Shadows passed.
"They locked the outside," she breathed. "But they left one man in the office. The other two are sweeping the hall. If we go out now, they see us."
I unzipped my coat halfway. The Red Ledger was there — dark red leather, worn at the corners, the kind of book that had sat on my father's desk my whole life and I'd never been allowed to touch. It wasn't thick, maybe an inch and a half, with a black elastic band around it. I hadn't opened it.
Elena stared at it. "Is that it?"
I nodded. My throat was dry. "They said the tape was gone. They think we have it."
"We do have it," she said.
Footsteps came down the east hallway and stopped outside the frosted window. A radio chirped low. "Office is clear. Ledger's gone. Check the utility and kitchen."
The doorknob to the utility room jiggled.
Elena grabbed my sleeve and pulled me down behind the laundry sink, into the narrow space between the sink and the wall where the hoses ran. We crouched. The ledger dug hard into my ribs. I shifted it to my lap and covered it with my hand.
The utility door opened an inch and light cut across the washer. A man's shoe stepped in. He didn't come all the way inside — he shone a flashlight around, over the detergent bottles, over the dryer.
I held my breath. Elena's hand found mine on the ledger and pressed down.
The beam passed over the sink, over our heads. It lingered on the gray passage door.
The man took another step in. The floor creaked.
Then the dryer buzzed — loud, end-of-cycle — and he flinched. He backed out, pulling the utility door shut. "Utility's clear," he said into his radio. "Dryer's running."
His footsteps moved away down the hall.
Elena exhaled against my shoulder. The ledger was damp where my palm had sweated on the leather.
"It's not safe to keep carrying it like that," she whispered. "They'll search us if they catch us. We need to get outside before they lock the last way out."
I zipped the ledger tighter inside my coat and cinched the coat closed. My hands were steady now. "Back door through the kitchen?"
She shook her head. "They locked the service exit. I heard the bolt. Only way left is the side window in the pantry — it doesn't latch right. Daniel showed me."
I looked at the passage door behind us, then at the frosted hallway door, then at her face. The ring on her finger caught the bare bulb light.
May you like
"Okay," I said. "Pantry."
We stayed crouched another thirty seconds, listening to the house. The office door was still open. Someone was moving the desk again. But our book was no longer there to find. It was inside my coat, and their search was already behind us.
