CHAPTER 8: A Door Behind the Blue Awning

Vanessa reached for the key.
Daniel closed his hand around it first. 'I think Mr. Whitmore should see this.'
'Silas Whitmore is unwell,' she snapped. 'He does not need nonsense from a street addict.'
That word changed the air around them. Daniel had heard market gossip for months: vendors pushed out, inspections appearing after complaints, rent envelopes routed through companies no one could name. He had never connected those things to the founder's locked office above the awning.
Now Vanessa's fear was doing the connecting for him.
The old staircase to the north office stood behind Booth 14, hidden by stacked crates. Daniel had walked past it for years. He had never seen anyone use it.
He looked toward the crowd where the young man had vanished.
'Call whoever you want,' Daniel said. 'I am opening the door.'