The knob turned. I searched the windowless room again and saw the small ivory whale on Martha's desk, a gift from my father years ago that she had never liked enough to move.
I remembered what he had said when he gave it to her. *“Every house needs one honest exit, Evie. Just in case you ever need to escape the sharks.”*
At the time, I thought he was joking.
His worn copy of *Moby d**k* still sat on the third shelf behind the desk.
The study door opened.
I grabbed the worn leather spine and pulled. There was no click, but the entire section of shelf pivoted inward, opening onto a narrow passage full of dust and stale air.
I slipped inside as Martha entered the study and swept her eyes toward the safe. The panel closed against my back, leaving me in darkness. Through the wood, I heard
