“Miss Grey, I’ll need to see two forms of identification, please,” Mr. Stephens said, looking up from the monitor.

I shot an irritated look at Jared, realizing I’d left my purse at the loft. Jared reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out my wallet. I snatched it from his hand and then put my driver’s license and student ID on the small space in front of the computer monitor. Mr. Stephens’ eyes darted twice between my face and each of the cards and then nodded. I put the cards back into my wallet as he repeated the process with Jared.

“Miss Grey, there is a red pad in front of you. I’ll need you to press and hold your thumb there until you see a flash, and then I’ll need you to do the same, Mr. Ryel,” he said, watching us both follow his directions. “Now sign here and approve the date with the green button when you’re finished.”

I hastily signed and clicked the button with the pen, handing it to Jared, who signed his name under mine.

“And you have the key?”

“We do,” Jared said in a low voice.

“Right this way,” Mr. Stephens said, the vault automatically opening.

The room was filled with various sized boxes, all plated in the same bronze color as the door. Our steps echoed against the marble floor.

Mr. Stephens turned to us, pointing to a shiny golden square on the wall with a small black button in the center. “Press this button to let me know you’re finished. It was a pleasure doing business with you. Miss Grey…Mr. Ryel,” he nodded, leaving us alone. The vault door sealed shut behind him, and Jared’s eyes drifted to mine.

“Okay, he was creepy,” I whispered, half-expecting Jared to offer comfort.

Without a word, he walked ahead, pulling the key from his pocket. I scanned the boxes on the wall and noticed that the numbers were out of order.

“This is going to take forever!” I complained. Jared still didn’t respond, so I rolled my eyes and looked for box eight twenty-five.

Ten minutes later, Jared called to me. “Nina?”

I rushed toward his voice and found him in the back corner, looking at a bronze square the size of a shoebox. “Well, we should have looked back here, first. This is just like Jack, isn’t it?”

Jared still didn’t speak; he simply shoved the key in the lock and opened it, exposing a tan safe with a large black combination lock and handle on the front. He placed the safe on the floor at my feet as if it were a shoe box. I was sure it must have been at least fifty pounds, if not more, but Jared didn’t brace himself against the weight. The muscles of his arms didn’t even strain.

“The code is a combination,” I said.