Andrew’s voice died with a dry pop from the speaker. The iron deadbolt sat heavy in the oak frame, locked from the outside.
Heavy footsteps approached.
Julian crossed the study in two long strides. His boots made no sound on the rug. He took my upper arm, thumb pressing hard into the muscle.
“Behind the desk. Keep low. Don’t look at the doors.”
“We can’t hide in here, Julian. He has the master key.”
My pulse was already up against my ribs. Inside my coat the flash drive bit into my palm, hard plastic edges sharp enough to leave a mark.
My mother stumbled against the velvet sofa. Her heels skidded on the polished boards. She caught the armrest and held on. The silk of her blouse was torn at the cuff. Mascara had run into the fine lines around her eyes and down her cheeks. She looked o
