The sirens started low in the distance, a faint hum under the quiet murmur of voices in the room, then they grew louder and louder until the sound was bouncing off the walls. Blue and red lights shone through the tall windows, staining the walls in sharp color.

"They're here," Markus said, already moving toward the door. Ava followed, her jacket half-buttoned, hand on her gun.

Adrian didn't move. He was still at the control panel, his eyes fixed on the silent video feeds. "Make sure they don't mess up the grounds before we've had a chance to look for anything she might've left behind."

"Bodies first," Markus replied, his tone flat. "Evidence after that."

I froze mid-step. "Bodies?"

Neither of them answered me. They were already out the door.

I stayed back until the sound of boots and voices drifted in from the driveway, and then I followed, my bare feet feeling cold on the marble.

As uniformed officers swarmed the front steps, two black vans parked just beyond the gates, the words Metropolitan Police written in white on the side. Floodlights lit up the gardens like a stage, I spotted a forensics team moving toward the hedges with plastic cases.

Detective Harris stepped forward clipboard in hand, I only knew his name because I heard Markus mutter it once. He had a solid build and a face that looked like it had seen way too many crime scenes. "Mr. Westwood, Mrs. Westwood, I'm gonna need statements from both of you."

Adrian's jaw tightened. "I'll talk to you in my study. My wife will tell you what she can."

"I'm not your—" I stopped myself. It wasn't the time or place.

The detective then gestured for me to follow one of the uniformed officers toward a smaller sitting room off the main hall. It was warm inside, but my skin still prickled with cold. He sat across from me with his pen ready.

"Did you see the intruder?" he asked.

"Yeah."

"Can you describe her?"

"She's... tall. Dark hair pulled back. Wearing expensive clothes, she looked like she just stepped out of some high-end magazine."

"I see. Do you happen to know her name?"

I hesitated. "Allegra."

His pen stopped for half a second before moving again. "Allegra what?"

"I don't know. Nobody gave me a last name."

"And your husband knows her?"

The way he said husband made it sound like an accusation. "Yeah."

"How?"

"I think they had business," I said. "From before."

He leaned back slightly. "What kind of business?"

I didn't answer right away, partly because I honestly wasn't too sure and partly because I was certain anything I said would end up splashed across the tabloids before morning.

"I'm not really sure," I said finally. "You'll have to ask him that."

The officer tapped his pen against the clipboard. "Mrs. Westwood, the men we found along the north wall were all carrying illegal firearms. They weren't here for some friendly chat. We've got reason to believe your husband's past connections...."

"Stop." My voice came out sharper than I expected. "If you've got something to ask Adrian, then ask Adrian. I'm not his secretary and I'm not going to sit here guessing for you."

The officer's eyes narrowed slightly, but he wrote something down and stood. "Alright. That'll be enough for now, you can go."

I walked back into the hall just as Adrian was stepping out of his study with Detective Harris. The detective's expression was unreadable, but Adrian's face was stony.

"Thanks for your cooperation," Harris said, I could tell by his tone that we'd been anything but helpful.

As they left, I noticed one uniformed officer hanging back by the door, talking low into his phone. His eyes kept flicking toward me, and my stomach dropped as I caught a few words he said when I passed by him. Westwood's wife... inside the house... full statement tomorrow morning.

I didn't need to guess where that phone call was headed.

I turned toward the main staircase, but the sound of shouting outside stopped me cold. I went to the window and saw that the gates were lined with camera crews, microphones, and flashing bulbs. Reporters were yelling over each other like they were at some kind of auction.

"Mrs. Westwood, how long have you been married?" "Are you scared for your life?" "Is it true the intruder used to work for your husband?"

I backed away from the window fast. My pulse was hammering in my ears.

Ava appeared beside me. "Don't go anywhere near them."

"I wasn't planning on it."

"Good. Because they'll twist whatever comes out of your mouth, that's how this whole game works."

I glanced toward the door. "They're not gonna go away, are they?"

"Not tonight," she said. "Probably not for a long while."

Adrian joined us, his voice low but firm. "Markus is doing another sweep of the grounds, we'll know by morning if Allegra left any surprises behind."

"What the hell does that even mean?" I asked.

"It means," he said, looking at me steadily, "that she didn't show up here just to chat. If she planted something, I want it found before she gets a chance to use whatever it is."

The sirens were fading now, replaced by the constant buzz of cameras and reporters outside. The police had come and gone, but nothing felt any safer. If anything, it felt worse, it felt like the walls were closing in and everyone was watching us.

Later, I sat on the edge of my bed, still in the same clothes I'd been wearing when Allegra showed up like some kind of nightmare. My hands wouldn't stay still and every creak in the hallway made me jump, so I got up, crossed to the window, checked the lock, then went to the door and checked that too, twice.

The house was quiet now, as I thought about the north wall and the bodies that Markus had mentioned so casually, about the way Allegra had looked at me when she said she was already planning our next meeting. I pulled my knees up to my chest, sitting on the bed like a scared kid as my eyes kept going back to the door.

At some point I heard slow, deliberate footsteps in the hallway, and my breath caught in my throat as the steps stopped right outside my door.

I stood up, heart pounding so hard I was sure whoever it was could hear it, and opened the door before I could talk myself out of it.

Adrian was standing there, one hand still at his side like he'd been about to knock. His voice was quiet. "You shouldn't be alone tonight."