The hallway to the guest wing was quiet, the kind of quiet that made the air hum against the skin. The men walked behind her, their footsteps slow and deliberate on the polished floor. She didn’t know if it was the low light or their silence, but the house itself felt like it was holding its breath.

Richard’s hand rested on the small of her back as he guided her down the hallway. He wasn’t rushing. He never did. He led her like someone leading a possession.

The door to the guest ...