Eleanor: Clara, dear... is all of this really happening?
Clara: It's happening, Eleanor. Justice is finally here for you.
Sarah: Mrs. Morrow, we still need one crucial piece of physical evidence to finalize the patent ownership claim before the judge at nine tomorrow morning.
Eleanor: What kind of evidence?
Sarah: We need the original physical sketchbooks from 1975 with your hand-written date stamps and design seals.
Eleanor: Oh... the black leather journals!
Clara: Do you know where they are, Eleanor?
Eleanor: Before Charles Croft locked me out, Rose and I hid a iron trunk beneath the floorboards in the old basement workshop downtown.
Clara: The old atelier on Elm Street?
Eleanor: Yes! Rose had a duplicate key to the floor safe hidden inside the lining of her vintage sewing box!
Clara sprinted toward her private office in the back, pulling an antique wooden sewing box off the top shelf.
She opened the velvet lid, feeling along the stitched silk pocket inside until her fingers touched a small, heavy iron key.
Clara: I found it! The duplicate key!
Sarah: Let's get to the Elm Street building right now before Gregory tries to tamper with the property!
Thirty minutes later, Clara's black SUV pulled up to the front of a dusty, four-story brick building on Elm Street.
The windows were covered in boards, but the faded painted sign above the entrance still read: 'Sterling & Morrow Fine Apparel'.
Clara: Look at that sign, Eleanor... your name is still up there.
Eleanor: I haven't seen this building in forty years, Clara. It feels like stepping back into my youth.
They walked around to the alley entrance, where Sarah used a pair of bolt cutters to snap the rusty padlock on the heavy steel basement door.
They stepped down into the dark, cool basement, the beam of Clara's flashlight cutting through the dust in the air.
Clara: Where was the floor safe located, Eleanor?
Eleanor: Over by the old cutting table near the brick wall... under the wooden floorboards.
Clara moved a dusty wooden crate out of the way, shining her flashlight onto a small rectangular trapdoor cut into the oak flooring.
She lifted the latch, revealing a solid black iron safe set directly into the concrete foundation.
Clara: The lock mechanism is intact! Eleanor, give me the key!
Clara inserted the iron key into the lock, turning it slowly until a heavy metallic click echoed through the dark room.
She lifted the heavy iron lid, revealing three thick leather-bound sketchbooks and a stack of original land title deeds wrapped in oiled canvas.
Sarah: Unbelievable... these are fully notarized design patents from 1975, stamped by the state licensing office!
Clara: We have them, Eleanor! We have every single original drawing!
Eleanor: Rose and I saved them... we saved our life's work for you, Clara.
Suddenly, heavy footsteps clattered down the concrete stairs behind them, and a harsh flashlight beam blinded Clara's eyes.
Gregory: Hand over those sketchbooks right now, or none of you are leaving this basement!