Chapter 4 The Midnight Safe

Nessa POV

The cab dropped me two blocks from the estate at 1:12 a.m. Rain made the street lights look blurry. I dragged my bad foot along the wet pavement. My heart was beating hard.

I skipped the main gates and went to the side hedge. Years ago I found a gap behind the bushes where the sensors didn’t reach. I got down low and crawled through the mud.

The house was dark, with no lights on upstairs. Dad wasn’t supposed to be back from Chicago until tomorrow night.

I got to the terrace doors and used graphite powder on the keypad. The numbers showed up clearly: 0-4-1-8. My first competition date. He never changed it.

The lock clicked. I slipped inside and closed the door quietly.

Inside, it smelled like his cologne. I didn’t turn on any light. I used the moonlight and limped down the hall to his study. My knee hurt, but I kept the boot quiet.

Brennan’s words kept going through my head.

He had told me to look in my father’s private office for the missing page of his case file.

I reached the double doors. My hands shook as I pulled out the spare key I took from his desk months ago. I turned it slowly so it wouldn’t make noise.

The door opened. I went in and closed it behind me.

The study looked the same, with the big desk, the bookshelves, and that painting of me landing a triple Lutz when I was fourteen. I had always hated it.

I went straight to the painting and felt under the frame until I found the small button.

Click.

The painting swung open. The safe was right there.

My hands were shaking, but biometrics would send an alert to his phone, so I used the manual code instead: 0-9-1-2-0-4, the day my mother died.

The lock opened with a heavy sound.

I pulled the door open.

Inside were hard drives, bonds, and a thick blue folder marked FEDERATION DISCIPLINARY / RESTRICTED.

I took the folder out, put it on the desk, and turned on my small key light.

I opened it to the first page.

SUBJECT: KESSLER, BRENNAN. INCIDENT DATE: OCTOBER 12.

Positive test for an anabolic agent.

Page two contained the suspension notice, the loss of his scholarship, and the cancellation of his national team clearance.

I turned the page, but page three was gone. A jagged paper stub hung from the metal rings where the lab receipt had been torn out.

The staple had been pried open. There was a tear where the lab receipt should have been.

A yellow sticky note was stuck at the bottom. My father’s handwriting.

Hale confirmed the log is cleared. Make sure Vale locks the secondary server by Friday.

My mouth went dry, and my fingers tightened around the edge of the desk when I saw the name: Hale, head of the federation testing lab.

Vale. Senior Director Adrian Vale, Brennan’s former national coach, now running the safety committee.

“He was telling the truth,” I whispered.

Victor didn’t just get a copy. He helped wipe the records. He was one of the Federation’s executives, and he influenced it to make it disappear. Brennan never failed that test.

And Vale helped him do it.

The tires rolled over the gravel outside as headlights swept across the ceiling.

He was home early.

I shoved the folder back in the safe, closed it hard, and put the painting back. The front door slammed downstairs.

“Check the security feed for the terrace,” Victor said. “The sensors flagged something ten minutes ago.”

“Right away, Mr. Calder.”

Footsteps came up the stairs fast.

I ran for the door, forgetting about my ankle. Pain shot up my leg. My knee gave out, and I hit the floor hard, catching myself on the desk.

Get up. Now.

I got up, unlocked the door, and slipped out just as the footsteps reached the landing. I closed the study door quietly.

The hallway was empty except for one corner with a marble statue. I limped toward it as fast as I could.

“Nessa?”

Victor’s voice came from the top of the stairs.

I pressed my back against the wall and held my breath. The key in my pocket felt heavy.

His cane tapped on the floor as he walked closer.

He stopped a few feet away.

“I know you’re in the house,” he said. “The driver saw a cab near the gate.”

I kept my hand over my mouth.

His phone rang. He answered. “Speak.”

A voice said, “Mr. Calder, the board approved Kessler’s medical mandate. He filed the papers twenty minutes ago.”

Victor’s voice went cold. “Tell Vale to hold his position. If Kessler thinks he can use my daughter to dig up old files, he’s wrong. We shut this down before she gets back on the ice.”

He turned and walked back to his room, then closed the door.

I waited until it was quiet, then stepped out.

My hands were still shaking. I gripped the key so hard the metal dug into my skin.

Brennan was right about my father.

He was right about the file, but I kept thinking about the fall and the way my blade caught wrong. It didn’t feel like an accident.

My father or someone working with him must have done it.

He had already destroyed Brennan.

Why would I be any different?

I turned and limped toward the service stairs, ready to get out.