Noah was forced to sleep under the staircase while his real bedroom was given away.

For the next three days, we stayed at the inn.

Daniel reported back each evening. Victor had begun changing everything. He had removed Noah's name from every document he could find. He had ordered boxes packed and Margaret had begun sorting through my things, deciding what should be kept and what thrown away.

It made my blood boil.

But Daniel also brought us information.

"Victor is looking for something," Daniel said on the third night, sitting at our hotel table. "He spends hours in the study. He pulls out every folder, every book, every box. He says your father kept something hidden. Something that could ruin everything."

"He is looking for the second letter," I said.

"He believes your father wrote a revised will," Daniel said. "One that cancels the condition. He is terrified someone will find it before he does."

"Margaret?" Liam asked.

"She watches him constantly," Daniel said. "She does not trust him. And he does not trust her. They are already fighting over who gets what. The alliance is crumbling."

"Good," I said. "Let them destroy each other."

"There is more," Daniel said. "Victor told Margaret something yesterday. He said... even if the will is found, it will not matter. Because your father was not who you thought he was."

I frowned. "What does that mean?"

"I do not know. He would not say more. But he laughed. And he said... blood is the only thing that truly matters."

I looked at Liam. He looked equally troubled.

"Emily," Daniel said, standing up. "I should get back. If I am gone too long they will suspect."

"Be careful," I told him.

He nodded. Then he looked at Noah, who was asleep on the bed in the next room.

"Tell him... tell him I am sorry," Daniel said quietly. "And tell him I am trying."

"I will," I said.

After Daniel left, Liam turned to me.

"Victor is hiding something," he said. "Something bigger than the house. Something about your father."

"Whatever it is," I said, standing up and grabbing my coat. "I am going to find out."

"How?"

"If the first clue was in the house," I said, "and Victor is searching there... then the next clue must be somewhere my father went often. Somewhere he trusted."

"His office?" Liam guessed.

"Closed and locked. Victor will have it watched."

I thought. My father had been a man of routine. He went to the same places. Spoke to the same people.

Then it hit me.

"The cemetery," I said.

Liam blinked. "The cemetery?"

"He visited my mother's grave every Sunday," I said. "Without fail. Rain or shine. He said she was the only person he could truly talk to. If he wanted to hide something where no one would look... he would hide it there."

"It is a long shot," Liam said.

"Everything we have is a long shot," I said. "Are you with me?"

Liam stood up and took my hand.