The lock clicked, leaving Xander and me trapped inside the boathouse.
Xander rushed to the door and pulled the handle hard, but it wouldn't move at all.
"It's solid oak," he said, pushing again. "Thick wood. We're not breaking through it. It's too strong."
I sat down on an old bench. My hands were shaking. I opened the folder. Harrison had admitted he threatened my father, but he had twisted the truth to make me doubt my dad.
Then I found a letter addressed to me. My name on the front in my dad's handwriting.
It was dated three days before my father's death. Three days before he died.
"Lara?" Xander asked when he saw my trembling hands. "What is it?"
"It's from Dad. It's from my dad."
He sat beside me close as I unfolded it carefully.
It said:
My dearest Lara,
If you're reading
