Chapter 4: The Watchmaker’s Sanctuary
Tucked between a dilapidated pawnshop and an old maritime bookstore sat Klein’s Horology. Maya banged on the glass door just as dawn broke over the gray horizon. Her clothes were soaked in grime, her fingers numb from the cold.
The door swung open to reveal an elderly man with thick magnifying spectacles perched on his forehead. His weathered hands held a brass screwdriver.
"We are closed," the man said curtly, about to shut the door.
"Arthur told me Locker 88 is running five minutes slow," Maya stammered through chattering teeth.
The old man froze. He looked at Maya’s face, tracing the striking similarity between her jawline and Arthur Sterling’s. His stern expression dissolved into solemn sorrow. He pulled her inside and locked the deadbolt.
"You have your father’s stubborn eyes, child," he said softly, grabbing a wool blanket and wrapping it around her trembling shoulders. "I am Samuel. Arthur and I served together thirty years ago. He told me that if you ever knocked on this door, it meant the worst had come to pass."
"He was murdered, wasn't he?" Maya asked, the truth she had suppressed for months finally breaking into words. "It wasn't a sudden stroke."
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Samuel walked to the back of the shop, turning a heavy key inside an antique grandfather clock. The clock swung open to reveal a steel safe.
"Your father knew they were poisoning his daily supplements with digitalis," Samuel said grimly. "He couldn't prove it in time to save himself, but he left the evidence behind to save you."
