Nathan’s P.O.V

The morning air was thick with silence as we stood in front of the Wilson mansion. My palms were clammy, and even though the sun had barely risen above the horizon, I felt sweat gathering at the base of my neck. My mother stood beside me, unusually quiet, her hands clasped tightly in front of her.

I glanced at her once, but she didn’t meet my gaze. She just kept her eyes forward, staring at the grand wooden doors like they might swallow us whole. When the ...