MY SILENT DAUGHTER SPOKE TO A STRANGER IN A HOTEL SERVICE CORRIDOR—AND THE FIRST THING SHE SAID WAS SOMETHING I WAS NEVER MEANT TO HEAR

Chaos erupted in the narrow space of Unit 214.

Marcus fired his pistol in panic, the bullet shattering against the concrete wall above Declan’s head.

Declan didn't hesitate. He grabbed the heavy steel pry-bar from the floor, lunged forward with explosive speed, and struck Marcus across the wrist. The gun clattered into the puddles outside.

"Nora! Grab the diary! GO!" Declan roared, grabbing Marcus by his lapels and throwing him bodily into Arthur Pendelton, sending both men sprawling onto the wet gravel.

I grabbed my father’s diary, stuffed the yellowed deeds into my coat, and scrambled toward the open doorway.

Outside, the alley was a nightmare of twisted metal, flashing lights, and screaming men.

The Audi’s driver-side door swung open.

Iris was leaning over from the back seat, her small body stretched across the center console, her foot having pressed the accelerator while holding the steering wheel straight. She looked up at me through the rain, her face pale, her small hands covered in black grease from the steering column.

"I moved the car, Mom!" she yelled over the roar of the engine and the pouring rain. "Like Declan showed me!"

My heart nearly burst from my chest.

I dove into the front seat, grabbing the wheel, slamming the transmission into drive.

Declan burst out of Unit 214, carrying his canvas tool bag. He leapt into the passenger seat, slamming the door just as one of Arthur’s guards stumbled out from behind the wreckage, raising a sidearm.

"DRIVE!" Declan shouted.

I slammed my foot on the gas. The Audi’s tires screamed against the wet gravel, pulling a hard violent turn down Row C, smashing through the rusted chain-link gate and fishtailing out onto the dark, rain-swept streets of Milwaukee.

In the back seat, Iris climbed back into her car seat, panting slightly, her rabbit doll tucked securely under her arm.

I looked at her in the rear-view mirror, my eyes filled with tears, my whole body shaking so violently I could barely hold the road.

"You drove the car," I sobbed, laughing through my tears. "Iris... baby... you drove the car!"

"Declan showed me the shift lever in the hotel parking garage three weeks ago," Iris said, her voice completely calm now, as if she were reporting on a school project. "He said if the bad men ever came, I had to press the long pedal."

I looked at Declan. He was sitting in the passenger seat, bleeding slightly from a small cut on his temple, pressing a shop rag to the wound. He offered me a small, crooked smile.

"She’s a fast learner," Declan said softly. "Just like her mother."

"Where are we going?" I asked, turning the Audi onto the on-ramp for I-94 South, heading back toward the Chicago skyline. "Arthur has federal judges in his pocket. He has the police. He controls the board."

"He controls the board in Chicago, Nora," Declan said, reaching into his canvas bag and pulling out an old satellite phone. "But he doesn't control the State Attorney General in Madison. And he certainly doesn't control the Federal Department of Natural Resources."

He pressed a button on the phone and handed it to me.

"Call the number on the screen, Nora," Declan said. "Ask for Prosecutor Vance."

I froze, staring at the screen. "Prosecutor... Vance?"

"Your uncle, Nora," Declan revealed softly. "Your father’s younger brother. The one you were told died in the Navy thirty years ago."