"You found this on...accident?"

Thea had her hands placed firmly on her hips as she stared at the hidden room in the attic with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes.

"I knew you'd find something," Malik said while giving Henri a congratulatory pat on the back. The brown-eyed boy beamed brightly at him in reply.

Upon finding that secret annex in his father's study, he took it upon himself to do some more snooping before he told Thea and Malik. Considering it was concealed by a massive bookshelf, the room didn't do much to hide what remained inside. It was more of a closet than anything. The narrow walls and low ceiling were just big enough to fit a tiny desk and a few metal filing cabinets. The size of the room wasn't important. What waited for them inside was what mattered.

"It was a moment of genius," Henri said as he stepped past his sister, answering her earlier question. "I noticed one of Dad's favorite books wasn't positioned naturally and decided to give it a pull. He rigged it to control the entrance to whatever this secret room is."

"I can't believe Dad's been spending all his time in a literal hole in the wall," Thea said with an incredulous shake of her head.

"Whatever he's been doing in there, it's kept him busy."

Very busy.

Henri gestured at the brown wallpaper surrounding them, which was covered in maps, haphazardly-placed sticky notes, and scrolls covered in hieroglyphs. Thumbtacks holding up bright crimson thread ran along the walls. A spiderweb of crisscrossing lines connected random pieces of evidence together, stringing together frenzied thoughts and forming silent theories. It resembled the work of a paranoid schizophrenic. He couldn't believe it was a creation from one of their world's brightest minds.

In the desk pushed in the corner of the room was even more information. Earlier that morning, he discovered a stack of letters written by his father and a few other correspondents from across the globe. None of the names rang any bells in Henri's head. Had they been any of his father's regular scholarly pen pals, who famously called themselves The Last Librarians, he would've known. Not a single name in those letters was a part of that club—or any other organization Henri knew his father to be a part of.

While most of the mailing stamps told Henri the letters were sent from out the United States, one happened to be based out of Washington D.C. He hadn't gotten through them all yet, but each one he did read centered around a single topic: the Great Library of Alexandria.

Those messy, handwritten letters on coffee-stained parchment confirmed his theories all but true; his father had been searching for the library. He also wasn't the only one. Whoever Sergei worked for was looking for it too—and they'd do anything to find it.

He wanted to question why someone would go to these kinds of lengths, but he knew exactly why. His few years spent around other rich children at Westminster Academy taught him a plethora of valuable lessons. Most of them weren't learned in a classroom. People would do anything for fame, money, or attention. Henri was willing to bet his entire inheritance that whoever else was searching for the library was gunning after all three.

Rediscovering the Great Library of Alexandria would be deemed the greatest feat of the modern era. It hadn't been found for thousands of years since its gradual decline centuries ago. No one believed it, or the millions of pages of knowledge it was said to hold, still existed in any capacity.

But his parents knew something he didn't.

Apparently, so did Sergei and his employer.

Thea and Malik entered the hidden room behind him.

"What've you found so far?" his sister asked while studying one of the many images strung up on the wall.

Henri retrieved one of the letters from the stack sitting atop the desk. She took it from him and examined its contents.

"I don't recognize any of these names," she told him once she finished reading. "Mom and Dad have dragged me to countless galas and conferences to meet their nerdy friends. I might not have perfect memory like you, but I would've remembered at least one of their names."

"These aren't them," Henri said. "He's been working with new people it seems." He paused. "Potentially dangerous people."

Thea frowned. "He wouldn't do that. Mom wouldn't let him. You know she keeps his head straight."

"Yeah, well, what if he stopped listening to her?" Henri gestured at the room they were standing in. "After all, he was probably hiding this from her too. Who's to say he hasn't been keeping other secrets too?"

Thea went silent. She turned to peer at the walls again. "This doesn't make any sense. No other project has ever made him act like this."

"That's because this isn't just any other project—"

Off to the side, Malik bumped into the corner of the desk, causing both Henri and Thea to jump in surprise. He'd forgotten the boy was still with them.

"Er, sorry," Malik grumbled while rubbing his hip. "It's kinda cramped in here." He pointed at one of the letters on the table. "Wait a minute, I know this name."

Both Beck siblings lifted a brow at him. "You do?"

"Dr. Collins," he said as he picked up the envelope. "If I'm right, and I'm pretty sure I am, he's a professor at Howard University. I took one of his classes a year ago. Huge history nut. Kinda weird in a charming way. Great teacher, though."

Henri blinked. His father knew a lot of professors from various prestigious universities all over the world. It wasn't out of the realm of possibility for the man to have extended his network of scholars to the most prestigious HBCU in the country. He moved over to the other boy to get a better look at the letter.

His eyes scanned the page, quickly absorbing the information woven into the hastily written sentences in blue ink. He lifted his head, his eyes wide. "They were talking about the map."

"You mean the map those guys stole?"

"No, the other map."

"Another map was stolen?"

Henri facepalmed while Thea stifled a laugh. "Yes, I'm talking about the map they stole." He took the letter from Malik before shuffling over to the stack of unsealed envelopes. Each one spoke about a different piece of evidence regarding the library. But only this one discussed the stolen map. He turned to his sister. "Do you know how exactly our parents obtained the map?"

Thea answered with an uninterested shrug. "They went to Egypt for a few weeks, did some looking around. You know, standard stuff. All I know is they came back with a bunch of stuff and planned to open their new exhibit a few months later."

Henri glanced at the date on the envelope in his hand. Dr. Collins had written to his father earlier that year.

"We need to find this Dr. Collins person," he said. "We've still got questions that need answering, and he's probably the only person we can talk to about this right now." He turned to Malik. "Would you mind doing us another favor?"

The boy went stiff. He didn't answer right away.

Henri immediately scolded himself. "Sorry, sorry." He sighed. "I don't even know why I asked. We've kept you hostage long enough. Plus, you've still got to fix your truck."

Groaning, Malik slid a hand down his face. "Don't remind me. I'm surprised the thing hasn't exploded on me yet."

Henri laughed. Probably a little harder than he should've.

"Dr. Collins is in D.C.," Thea said. "We can make it there on our—" She silenced herself midsentence. Her nose twitched a few times as she sniffed the air. Disgust twisted her features before confusion shone through like the sun rising over a horizon. "Do any of you smell...smoke?"

Henri took a few whiffs of the air of the attic. No smoke. Just mildew, lemony leather polish, and dust. He lifted a brow at his sister. "You alright?"

"You having a stroke or something?" Malik's face contorted with concern. "One of the signs is smelling burnt toast—"

"I'm not having a stroke," she said through gritted teeth. With her pale eyes narrowed, she rushed out of the tiny room and into the rest of the study. The two boys she left behind exchanged wary glances before reluctantly following.

Henri scanned the study. His eyes settled on the opened hatch that contained the descending ladder. Then the acrid scent of smoke hit his nostrils. Tears stung his eyes immediately as he watched thick, wispy fingers the color of morning fog rising through the opening in the ground.

"Now I smell it," Malik quipped. "Something's on fire."

"That's usually what smoke means." Thea rolled her eyes.

Henri rushed to the ladder. Fumes had already filled the hallway beneath his feet. Smoke rushed up the walls and across the carpet. It clouded everything in sight and carried a burning stench that made the back of his throat itch. His nose twisted as a wave of it wafted into his reddening face. The faint sound of a fire—or multiple fires—crackling hit his ears.

"The house is on fire..." He knew for a fact he hadn't left the stove in the kitchen on after cooking breakfast. No one took fire safety more seriously than Henri Beck. This was something else. "Someone set the house on fire."

"Who the hell would do that?" Malik asked. The realization hit him shortly after. "That does seem pretty on brand for some dudes who shot at you guys."

"We need to go," Thea urged. She pushed past Henri and began her descent down the ladder.

Henri gawked at the descending image of his sister. Not only was it incredibly dumb to run headfirst into a burning building, but she hadn't even asked if he wanted to go first. Beside him, Malik gestured for him to take the ladder.

As he prepared to follow his sister into the smoky depths below, he froze.

"Er, now isn't really the best time to have second thoughts, Henri—"

Ignoring Malik, he scrambled back into the attic. He bolted into that tiny room hidden behind the bookshelves. His frantic eyes scoured the room, desperately hoping he could soak in as much of the information on the walls as he could. Nervous hands snatched up anything that would fit in them. He tried to grab as many of the folders, letters, and documents as he could, but the pockets of his pajamas weren't exactly meant to carry things. And he'd never be caught dead in a pair of cargo pants.

"Henri, we gotta go! Now!"

He cursed. The smoke had penetrated the study now. As he waddled out of the hidden room with way too many things in his hands, he tried his best not to breathe. Squinting, he made his way over to where Malik was standing while trying his best not to drop anything.

"You seriously went back for that stuff?"

"It's important!"

Shaking his head, Malik snatched a few of the documents and envelopes from the smaller boy before sticking them into the pockets of his own pants.

"Alright," he grumbled. "Let's get out of here."

Nodding, the two boys began their descent down the ladder.