Rising from the Ashes The Heiress They Tried to Erase Novel

Chapter 736: The last time they had come, the corridor by the elevators had been wide open. Now, two polished silver-gray turnstiles stood firm in their path, cutting them off with no room to pass. Card scanners and facial recognition devices had been installed beside the barriers, while a pair of uniformed security guards kept close watch, their eyes sharp and unblinking. Richard squinted at the barrier, confusion tightening his brow. He muttered to himself, "This isn't what was here before.

These turnstiles weren't around the last time I came." Curiosity getting the better of him, Jarrod tried to step closer, only to be greeted by a harsh alarm that blared through the lobby. Instantly, the guards stepped forward to block his path. "Sorry, sir. No entry without proper authorization," one of them announced, his tone leaving no room for argument. Jarrod's cheeks flushed as he backed away, the security team returning to their original positions, their attention never wavering. Turning back, he met Richard's eyes, a look of defeat on his face.

"It doesn't look like we're getting through with this plan," said Jarrod, trying to mask his disappointment. Richard, refusing to give up, leaned in and said softly, "Let's not lose our heads. If we hang back and blend in when more people arrive, maybe we can slip inside." It didn't take long, though, for the reality to settle in. The guards hadn't taken their eyes off them for a second. And even if they managed to blend in with a crowd, there was no way they could get to the elevators.

Another set of turnstiles waited at the far end of the hall, demanding a second card scan to get any closer. мσяє υρ∂αтєѕ ιи gαℓиσνєℓѕ.¢σм Trying to sneak in would be pointless; those guards were practically glued to them now. There was simply no chance of slipping by unnoticed. Restlessness took over Sandra as she paced back and forth, anxiety knotting in her stomach. Spotting a reception desk beside the new turnstiles, she seized her chance. With brisk determination, Sandra hurried over, putting on her best smile. "Hi there," she said, trying to sound pleasant.

"Would you mind helping us out? We need to get upstairs to see someone. Is there any way you could let us through?" Glancing up from his desk, the receptionist silently pointed toward a sign-in sheet resting nearby. "If you're visiting someone, write your names in the log. They'll need to come down for you, or call and approve your entry," the employee replied, his voice flat and indifferent. Color rose in Sandra's cheeks, stinging with humiliation. Even with everything their family had lost, no one had ever brushed her off like this before.

Still, they had come seeking help, and she swallowed her pride with effort. A strained smile touched her lips as she stepped forward. "We're here to see Maia Watson. You know who she is, don't you? Would you mind telling her that her family has come to visit?" . . .