The sun was still below the roofs of Rome, but Leya was already up in a black jacket and black jeans, eyes colder than the chilling air seeping down her cheeks. She did not wait for dawn. Not any longer for truth.

She stood before the rented apartment of the Andersons, the apartment where her mother had moved them after her dad's "accident."

And now, with the truth burning in her heart and Samuel's ghostly whisper spitting into the void, she was not present here as a daughter.

She was ...