Tristan’s P.O.V

I brought the car to a stop just in front of the tall, iron gates of the Harrison estate, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel as I waited for the usual buzz that lifted the gate open whenever I came around. Except… it didn’t come.

I frowned and leaned a bit toward the window, waving at the two guards who had known me for years—Jeff and Malcolm. They didn’t wave back. In fact, they didn’t move at all. Just stared, like I was a ...