Page 55 of Alchemy of Secrets

This way.” Holland led Adam to the end of the street.

The wind rocked the old wooden swing and rustled the leaves of the tree it hung from.

“Let me see the first page again,” said Adam. “I think there’s a line about rustling leaves.”

He was right. He used the flashlight on his phone to show Holland the words on the bottom of the page.

There is a moment of perfect silence, except for the sound of a breeze rustling leaves on a sycamore tree. Then…

Red plunges his fist into his wife’s grave and pulls out a handful of dirt.

“Maybe this means it’s buried at the base of the tree,” said Adam.

“There should be another clue here,” Holland said. “My father wouldn’t have us dig up the entire base of the tree.”

More leaves rustled as Adam moved around the base of the tree with his flashlight, looking for a sign that—

“There!” Holland pointed down, near the bottom of the trunk, where two initials had been carved into the tree. They were small but deep, half an inch, if Holland had to put a figure on it. Deep enough that the years had warped but not erased them.

B + I

“Those are my parents’ initials,” she whispered. And for a second, Holland’s throat felt thick. Every little thing her father left behind felt like an arrow to her heart, but this hit differently because it wasn’t just a clue. It was a tiny love note to her mom.

For a second, she saw Adam eyeing the initials. His expression was inscrutable. Holland wished she could tell what he was really thinking.

Back at the Beverly Hills Hotel, Adam had said he didn’t know if her parents had made a deal with his brother Mason. But she wondered if Adam had just been saying that because he didn’t want to tell her the truth.

Holland believed in the truth. She wanted the truth.

But she could see there was no truth Adam could tell her that was going to make her feel good.

If her parents had made a deal with Mason, then Mason was the reason they had died, and if they hadn’t made a deal with him, then her mother was the reason.

If Adam did indeed know the truth, Holland wondered if it was his kindness that kept him from telling her—or his fear.

“Looks as if this is our clue to dig,” Adam said. He held out the shovel he’d grabbed from Stage 10. “Do you want to or should I?”

Holland wanted to take the shovel, but one look at Adam’s arms confirmed he was clearly stronger.

She rocked from foot to foot as she watched him dig. Shovelful after shovelful. It felt like the start of her father’s screenplay.

Then—the shovel hit glass.

It was quiet and loud all at once. The ring of hope. The sound of buried treasure. The moment of absolute truth.

Adam tossed the shovel aside and started brushing dirt away. Holland was already on her knees, holding his phone like a flashlight. Her heart fluttered with nerves, and for a second she feared she was about to get a nosebleed.

Not now. Not now. Not now .

Adam finally pulled a jar from the ground and handed it to her. “I hope this holds more than a pencil.”

“It will,” she whispered.

Although there wasn’t much inside. Just a thin scroll of paper tied up with a thread.

Adam held the phone up as Holland unraveled it. There were two pages.

On the first page, she recognized her father’s scrawl immediately.

I know you’ll make the right decision, kiddo.

You already have everything you need. You just have to see it.

I wish I could be there to tell you I love you.

Dad

And Holland was choked up again. She could have reread this one page over and over. She could have sat on the old wooden tree swing with it until she’d memorized the words.

But there was a second page to look at. Another screenplay page.

INT. BOWLING ALLEY

A black bowling ball rolls down a lane toward six pins with letters that spell the words THE END .

“I think this is the last clue,” Holland said.

“Can I see?” Adam asked.

“Actually, I’ll take that,” said another voice.

Gabriel Cabral stood under the streetlamp, holding a gun.

Horror tripped down Holland’s spine. This must have been why he hadn’t taken the pencil from the book.

He’d wanted Holland to find it so he could follow her to where it led.

Gabe was more calculated than she’d given him credit for.

It made her wonder if he had also traded information about her to the Professor in exchange for the key that had undone the chains on the book.

For someone who said the Alchemical Heart was a myth that got the people who searched for it killed, he seemed quite skilled at the searching part.

Gabe pivoted by a fraction and pointed the weapon at Adam.

“Give me the scroll,” Gabe said, as easy as he’d told her to get into the car with him last night.

“Don’t do it—” Adam said to Holland.

“That’s also an option,” Gabe said. “I really wouldn’t mind shooting him again. And this time, I’ll do a better job.”

“No one is getting shot.” Holland glared at Gabe. Or she tried to glare. It was difficult to make herself glare at a murderer holding a gun. “Here.” She held out the scroll with a shaking hand.

Gabe shook his head. “You need to come to me, sweetheart. I’m not getting near your new boyfriend.” For a brief second, Gabe’s eyes cut to Adam and then back to Holland, giving her a look that almost resembled a warning.

Slowly, Holland walked toward him. She wasn’t sure he could do much with the scroll in her hand without the other pages. But she didn’t want to give anything to him. And before she could think about what she was doing, she started to run.

“Go in the other direction!” she screamed at Adam. Gabe couldn’t shoot Adam and chase after her.

No gunshots went off, but she did hear Gabe’s footfalls, heavy behind her.

Holland darted into the yellow house, desperately hoping Tom had been telling the truth about the trapdoor in the kitchen.

Holland raced frantically around the stairs. The kitchen was on the other side, all shadows and dark windows. She found the outline of the trapdoor and a little ring to lift it, just as she heard Gabe enter the house.

Holland dropped down to her knees and pulled.

Red light illuminated a ladder that didn’t look safe on a good day. As she started down it, Gabe ran into the kitchen. She nearly fell as she descended as quickly as she could.

Everything was dark save for red lights pointing toward a neon exit sign.

She didn’t see a shooting range, just a tunnel with a few errant cleaning supplies. They must have converted it to get around the studio. There were two directions she could go, but neither had places to hide, just long forbidding corridors.

She darted to the right. Hard cement beneath her feet.

Nowhere to hide. She pushed herself to run faster.

She could do this. She ran every day. She wanted to live.

That had to count for something. Desperately, she continued to look for somewhere to hide.

A way out of the tunnel. But there were only glowing red exit signs, taunting her as she ran.

She took an abrupt turn to the right. And then she felt a pair of hands wrapping around her waist. “No! Let me go!” Holland kicked and screamed.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Gabe growled.

“Too late,” Holland cried.

For a second Gabe’s hands stilled. Then he was spinning her around, bringing them face-to-face. His jaw was clenched and his eyes were dark. “I don’t know what they said to you in the Bank,” Gabe said, “but I didn’t murder my wife.”

“Then how do you know they told me that?”

“Because that’s what everyone believes.”

“But—”

“I didn’t kill her, Holland.” Gabe held her a little tighter, pulling her close enough to feel his pounding heart. His expression was impossible to read, but his rapid heartbeat told her he was far from unfeeling. “If you want to know what happened, come with me.”

“You just pointed a gun at me.”

“I pointed it at him . You can’t trust him.” Gabe looked at her as if this was the one thing she needed to believe. This was the only truth that mattered.

“You’re the one I can’t trust. You told me the Alchemical Heart was a myth, one you didn’t believe in, but you obviously want it more than anything!”

“I don’t want it, I need it. But that doesn’t mean I want to hurt you.” Gabe pulled her even closer. His eyes were pained, and they were red . Bloodred.

Holland saw blood pooling in the corners of his eyes. “No!” She tried to wriggle free, watching in terror as the blood began to pour down his cheeks. “You have to let me go.”

Gabe shook his head. “You keep making the same mistake.”

“You’re bleeding,” Holland said. But like the others, Gabe didn’t hear her.

“You keep making the same mistake,” he repeated.

“What mistake?” Holland asked. But suddenly, Gabe wasn’t Gabe. He was Adam. And he was looking at her as if she was the one who was scaring him. And that’s when she felt the blood pouring out of her own eyes.