Clara barely slept that night. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw the photograph, her mother, Edward Knight and the face that had been deliberately scratched out.
Then there were the words written in the corner, Warehouse Seventeen. The location repeated endlessly in her mind.
Like a puzzle piece finally revealing itself. By morning, Clara had made up her mind, she wasn't waiting anymore.
If answers existed inside Warehouse Seventeen, she intended to find them. Even if those answers changed everything.
The moment she stepped into the dining room, she found Alexander already seated at the table, a tablet rested beside his coffee. Several documents were spread before him.
Judging by the tired look in his eyes, he hadn't slept much either. Sophia stood nearby arranging breakfast. Th
