Luca led me up two sets of stairs, down three different hallways, and past a doorway that had been bricked shut.
“What’s that?” I asked, slowing to look at it.
He paused for only a second. “That was my uncle’s wing. The old man had it walled off when Leonard died.”
Because that’s normal, I thought. Totally normal—just like cutting off your whole family for twenty years and never explaining why.
Luca kept walking, and I hurried to follow. Finally, we reached a steel door that looked like it belonged on a bank vault. It had a heavy combination dial and a five-pronged lever.
Luca spun the dial—left, right, left—so quickly I couldn’t catch a single number. There was a loud click, and then he pulled down the lever. With a groan of metal, the door swung open into the hall.
What kind of lib
