The sound of heavy boots echoed up the stairs as Raphael's men entered the building below.
"Ten seconds," Elias said quietly, pulling a small device from his jacket. "I can get us out through the kitchen exit, but we need to move now."
I stared at him, this man who claimed to be my ally but admitted to being part of organizations I did not understand. Every instinct screamed not to trust him.
But the alternative was facing Raphael and his army of soldiers.
"Why should I trust you?" I demanded.
"Because," Elias said, checking his watch, "your real mother specifically told me to find you before they did. She said to tell you about the music box."
My blood froze. The music box. A small wooden treasure that had played Chopin's Nocturne in E-flat major. My mother used to wind it every nig
