The study door closed with a soft, heavy click that seemed to seal the night in place.

Ariana’s bare feet sank into the thick rug as Richard guided her deeper into the room. The walls were lined with tall, dark shelves packed with books that smelled like cedar and age. A single lamp glowed on the desk, throwing warm light across the leather chair behind it.

She’d been in this room before. She had sat on the rug as a child doing her homework while he took business calls. Back then, the air ...