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"We might have to check her room," I add, disappointed. I'd hoped we'd find everything we were looking for in her office, so we wouldn't have to linger more than necessary.

"Not yet," Vlad says, his eyes still on the papers.

When he finishes his perusal, he drops them on the desk with a thud, looking annoyed.

"You said sheonlykept physical records," he starts, his thumb stroking his jaw.

I nod.

"She was pretty known for her dislike of technology. They even tried to add some more devices to the church and other places around the convent to make it easier for us. But shewouldn't have it. It was a huge scandal a couple years back. She kept saying that technology is the work of the devil and it has no place in the house of God. Unless she's a bigger hypocrite than I gave her credit for, I don't think she'd have any technology."

"You might be right." He goes around the desk, taking out the chair and inspecting the wall. "See? There are no wires for ethernet, or even a socket. On that note, who doesn't use at least a lamp?" He shakes his head, a smile on his lips, "Unless she's reading all these documents at candle light?" he jokes.

But just as I turn my head I spot an empty candle holder, and I show it to him. "Candle light it is," I tell him and he chuckles.

"Why would someone who is clearly not interested in the commodities of modern life be involved in human trafficking? What is she even doing with the money?" He purses his lips, continuing to look around.

"We should go to her room, since there's nothing here." I dust off my habit as I stand up, putting everything back inside the drawers, so it doesn't seem as if someone's been here.

"No, not yet," Vlad mumbles, taking a few steps back and studying the walls.

While the convent is old, the administrative buildings were built more recently, somewhere in the later part of the twentieth century, so everything around is pure concrete.

"If she doesn't trust computers to keep her things safe." He narrows his eyes as he studies the wall behind the desk. "Then she must trust something, right?"

His shrewd gaze moves slowly over every inch of concrete. I frown as I reach his side, trying to see what he's staring at but finding nothing out of the ordinary. Just plain, white walls.

"What is it?" I ask when he takes a step forward, immediately focusing on one spot in particular—the one that's hiding behind the drawers.

He doesn't answer. Instead, he moves the drawers to the middle of the room, heading back to the wall and knocking lightly in the cement. He continues to do this, moving a few inches to the right every time.

Until he stops.

"Hear that," he says, his ear to the wall. When I'm at his side, he knocks again, and my eyes widen as I realize what he means.

"It's hollow."

He nods, his hands moving around the surface of the wall as if he's looking for something. When he reaches a few bumps in the lower half, he flattens his palm against them, pushing them in.

A few tries, and a trap door built inside the wall snaps open.

"I'm guessing this is her trusted place." He smirks, clearly pleased with himself.

Wrenching the fake wall open, we find a very small storage space, all filled with boxes.

"I guess we'll be spending quite some time here," I add drily as we take out the boxes, placing them on the floor. "Or not…" I roll my eyes when I see him already putting down a couple of files, done with them.

"I'm a fast reader." He shrugs.

"No, you're an insanely fast reader. What is that even?" I take a box, removing a few papers and start to go through them.

"I can read almost two thousand words per minute," he says casually, "it helps to sift through lots of information."

"Wow, of course you'd measure yourself," I add playfully, "good stroke for your ego."

He lifts his eyes, looking at me strangely.

"It was Miles who made us test our speed. He wanted us to excel in all areas. And I, of course, was his star pupil," he jokes, and while he tries to seem amused, I can tell he's not unaffected by that memory.