Chapter 17 - The Music Box
By the time agents reached our apartment, the door had been broken open.
Drawers covered the floor.
Furniture had been overturned.
My mattress had been cut apart.
But the music box was still there.
It sat beneath a loose floorboard where I had hidden it months earlier after catching a neighbor trying to steal toys.
Nathaniel stared at me.
“You hid it?”
“She tried to steal my markers too.”
Dante nodded seriously.
“Unforgivable.”
I almost laughed.
The music box was small and wooden.
A tiny ballerina rotated when the lid opened.
The song was old.
Nathaniel recognized it immediately.
“My mother used to play this.”
My mother turned a hidden key beneath the base.
The song slowed.
Then stopped.
A compartment opened.
Inside was a brass key and a handwritten note.
Nathaniel unfolded it.
The handwriting belonged to his father.
NATHANIEL.
IF YOU ARE READING THIS, I FAILED TO FIX WHAT I CREATED.
THE MONEY CAN DISAPPEAR.
THE EMPIRE CAN BURN.
THE ONLY THING WORTH SAVING IS THE TRUTH.
TRUST ELENA.
Nathaniel stopped reading.
My mother covered her mouth.
The note continued.
THE BRASS KEY OPENS BOX 1717 AT UNION CENTRAL STATION.
DO NOT LET WYNN FIND IT.
Nathaniel looked at Dante.
“Union Central.”
Dante was already calling agents.
We drove there under heavy protection.
Locker 1717 was hidden in an old storage corridor closed to the public.
The brass key fit.
Inside was one ordinary black notebook.
Nathaniel opened it.
His father had written names.
Dates.
Payments.
But unlike the Graves archive, these were not blackmail records.
They were evidence.
Evidence his father had gathered against Charles Wynn.
Pages showed Wynn had been stealing from the organization for seventeen years.
The final entry was dated the night Nathaniel’s father died.
CHARLES KNOWS I AM LEAVING.
IF SOMETHING HAPPENS TO ME, NATHANIEL MUST NEVER TRUST HIM.
Nathaniel closed the notebook.
Dante’s phone rang.
His expression became urgent.
“Wynn was spotted.”
“Where?”
“Grand Central west exit.”
Nathaniel turned.
A man in a dark coat stood at the far end of the station.
He looked directly at us.
Charles Wynn.
He smiled.
Then ran.
Dante and several agents chased him.
Nathaniel started after them.
My mother grabbed his arm.
“Don’t.”
“He murdered my father.”
“And chasing him into a crowded station is exactly what he wants.”
Nathaniel stopped.
My mother was right.
A moment later, the station lights flickered.
An announcement ordered evacuation.
Someone had reported a bomb.
Crowds surged toward the exits.
My mother held my hand.
Nathaniel stayed beside us.
Then somebody slammed into him.
I lost my grip on my mother.
A hand grabbed the back of my coat.
I screamed.
Nathaniel turned.
Charles Wynn stood behind me.
He pressed a small gun against my side.
“Give me the notebook.”
Nathaniel went completely still.
May you like
Wynn smiled.
“Or your daughter pays for every mistake your father made.”
