Aiko told her there was a backup of the annex in a Kiyohara legal vault, but the copy they held had been encrypted with an obsolete key. Daniel Ward had helped design the archival naming convention, and his testimony might explain what the revisions meant. The company had sought him for years without success. Two weeks ago an unsigned letter had arrived at Aiko's office with a sentence in English: Ask the daughter what the first version says.
'I didn't send that,' Elena said.
'I believe you.'
'Where is the letter now?'
'In our counsel's custody. I will arrange for you to see it.'
The phone trembled in Elena's hand. Another message had arrived. This time it contained an address for a storage facility on the west side and a countdown: 01:42:16.
Aiko heard Elena's breath catch. 'What is it?'
'Whoever contacted me knows about a storage locker. I don't know how.'
'Do not go alone.'
'I'm not going at all until I know who sent this.'
The timer changed to 01:42:01.
Then Jonah called. Elena answered immediately.
'I found Dad's receipt,' he said. 'But Ellie, there's something else in the blue folder. A letter with your name on it. It says not to read it unless someone offers you money to translate a lie.'
Elena closed her eyes. Across town, somewhere beneath rain-dark streets, a storage locker might be emptied before dawn. In her brother's hands was a letter her father had intended her to read only if an impossible condition was met.
'Tell me exactly what the envelope looks like,' she said.
Jonah drew in a breath. 'It's open already.'
'Why?'
'Because someone was here before I got home.'