Clara leafed through the papers, each page a blow to her family’s past.
“Your father’s debt… was fabricated,” Baste said, pointing to an account book with the union seal.
It took her breath away, and the weight of betrayal settled on her shoulders like dust.
“They faked the numbers to control you,” he added in a barely audible voice.
He felt the floor shake as alarms began to blare and red lights flashed.
“We have to go now!” Baste shouted, his voice full of urgency.
He grabbed a hidden lever and a section of the wall slid open, revealing a narrow passage.
Clara hesitated, staring at the crumpled photo on the floor.
