Ethan Sterling was trapped in total darkness behind the mansion's brick wall

The hallway was clear when Emma finally slipped out of the library. She sprinted silently back toward the master study, clutching the small metal flash drive in her hand like a lifeline. She reached the heavy oak doors and knocked twice, a rapid, frantic rhythm.

"Mr. Sterling, it's me!" Emma whispered urgently.

The deadbolt clicked instantly. William pulled her inside, locking the door behind her. The ruggedly handsome man looked tense, his pistol still gripped tightly in his right hand. Ethan was sitting up on the sofa, looking marginally better but still incredibly pale.

"Did you get it?" William asked, his eyes wide with desperate hope.

Emma opened her palm, revealing the small silver drive. "Yes. But Isabella has armed men roaming the halls. They have orders to kill you and throw Ethan off the balcony. We don't have much time."

William’s jaw clenched tightly. He took the drive from her hand and quickly moved to his massive mahogany desk. He flipped open his secure laptop and shoved the drive into the port.

"Let's see what you found, Ethan," William muttered, his fingers flying across the keyboard.

A folder popped up on the screen. It was filled with hundreds of documents, audio files, and encrypted emails. William clicked on a file named 'Brake_Lines_Payment.pdf'.

The screen illuminated with a scanned image of a wire transfer. Fifty thousand dollars, sent from Isabella's private account to an offshore shell company, dated three days before William's first wife died in a horrific car crash.

"My god," William breathed, the reality of the cold-blooded murder staring him in the face.

He clicked another file, an audio recording. Isabella's cold, hissing voice filled the study. "I don't care how you do it. Make sure the kid is out of the picture before William signs the new trust agreement."

"We have her," William said, looking up at Emma and Ethan. The fire of justice burned brightly in his eyes. "This is enough to put her away for life. I'm sending this directly to the FBI director right now."

William clicked the mouse, attaching the entire folder to a secure email client. He typed the address rapidly, his finger hovering over the 'Send' button.

Suddenly, the bright lights of the master study flickered violently.

Before William could press the button, a loud, mechanical grinding noise echoed from deep within the mansion's walls. The power grid whined, and then, with a terrifying finality, every single light in the estate completely shut off.

The study plunged into absolute, pitch-black darkness.

The laptop screen died instantly. The Wi-Fi router on the desk went dark. The email hadn't sent.

"Dad?" Ethan's terrified voice called out from the sofa in the darkness.