Here were the facts, laid out like puzzle pieces I couldn’t fit together:Craig had tried to run us off the road.Craig had a gun in his trunk, and the police thought it matched the bullets Williams had collected.Craig already had a record.The police asked me everything. About the shooting. About Craig. About Kiara. Each question made my chest tighter. Each answer felt like walking on glass.When it was over, they drove me back to Lachlan House. I wanted nothing more than to lock my door and sleep for a year.Instead, the front door flew open before Clara and I even reached the porch.Luca stormed out, his boots pounding against the steps. He stopped short when he saw us, but his eyes were sharp and furious.“You want to tell me,” he said to Clara, his voice a low growl edged with his Southern drawl, “why I’m just now finding out that the police moved Kiara away?”I froze. My stomach dropped like I’d been shoved off a cliff.“They what?” I whispered.Clara didn’t flinch. She lifted
We found a dress.The paparazzi didn’t make it easy. Their cameras flashed like strobe lights as Williams pushed us back into the SUV. Shouts followed us down the street. Questions, wild guesses, accusations—all of it blurred together into noise.Inside, the doors slammed shut. Silence fell, broken only by the hum of the engine. Williams checked the rearview mirror. “Seat belts buckled?”Mine was already locked tight across my chest. Beside me, Linda clipped hers in place with a neat click. She smoothed her hair as if nothing outside had happened, then turned to me with a faint smile.“Have you thought about hair and makeup yet?”“Constantly,” I said, my voice dry as dust. “It’s the only thing I think about these days. A girl has to keep her priorities straight.”Linda’s smile sharpened. “And here I thought all your priorities had the last name Lachlan.”“That’s not true,” I shot back quickly.But the words rang hollow. Because wasn’t it? How many hours had I spent thinking about Marc
I slept in Kaira’s room that night, though she wasn’t there.Before lying down, I asked Williams to check with her security team to ensure she was safe. He confirmed she was on the estate—but didn’t tell me where. That said enough.No Kaira. No Maya.For the first time since coming here, I felt truly alone.Marcus hadn’t shown his face since storming off that morning. Julian had left soon after we’d uncovered the Davenport clue. And Luca—I hadn’t seen him at all.It was just me, in a giant, haunted house, with three numbers circling in my head:One. One. Eight.That was it. Three digits.It meant Leonard’s tree in the Black Wood really had been just a tree. If there was a fourth number, I hadn’t found it yet. Based on the plastic keychain shaped like a 1, clues could come in any form—not just carvings.The more I thought about it, the more restless I became.Late into the night, when the house should’ve been silent, I heard it: footsteps.I froze.Were they behind me? Above me? Below?
Williams went up first. I waited below, staring at the ceiling, listening to the faint scrape of his boots against the pole. When he came back down—sliding instead of climbing—he landed in front of me with the grace of someone who’d done this before.“The room’s clear,” he told me. His eyes flicked toward my side, where the wound still ached. “But if you try to climb, you might pull a stitch.”He’d said it out loud, in front of Luca. That wasn’t careless. That was deliberate.Luca leaned in like a shark catching the scent of blood. “What injury?”“Someone shot at Hailey,” Williams said carefully, his voice steady but sharp enough to cut. Then he tilted his head. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, Luca?”The hallway went still.Luca’s jaw flexed, and for the first time, he looked dangerous in a way that wasn’t just show. His words came low and cold. “If I did, it would already be handled.”“Luca.” Williams gave him a warning look. The kind that meant stay out of this. Bu
Luca led me up two sets of stairs, down three different hallways, and past a doorway that had been bricked shut.“What’s that?” I asked, slowing to look at it.He paused for only a second. “That was my uncle’s wing. The old man had it walled off when Leonard died.”Because that’s normal, I thought. Totally normal—just like cutting off your whole family for twenty years and never explaining why.Luca kept walking, and I hurried to follow. Finally, we reached a steel door that looked like it belonged on a bank vault. It had a heavy combination dial and a five-pronged lever.Luca spun the dial—left, right, left—so quickly I couldn’t catch a single number. There was a loud click, and then he pulled down the lever. With a groan of metal, the door swung open into the hall.What kind of library needs this much security? The thought barely formed in my head before I realized this wasn’t just a room. It was a whole new wing of the house.“The old man started construction here when I was born,”
I knew Willams had heard every single word of my fight with Kiara. He had been standing close enough to catch every syllable. But I was also certain he wouldn’t comment. He never did.“I’m still looking for the Davenport,” I said sharply. I needed a distraction. Before, the search had been something to do. Now it was a necessity. My chest still felt tight from what I’d said to Kiara—and what she hadn’t said to me.Without her, the thought of wandering through this mansion felt heavier, like each step echoed too loudly. We’d already checked George Lachlan’s office. Where else could someone hide a Davenport desk?I focused on that question, not my sister. Not her phone. Not Craig. Not Richard.“I’ve heard,” I said after a long pause, “that this house has more than one library.” I looked at Williams. “Do you know where they are?”He didn’t answer right away, but two hours later, I found myself standing in library number five.It was on the second floor, with a slanted ceiling and walls c