I waited until the house was quiet.

That was the rule now. Always wait. Always listen. Always make sure Mary and Victoria were nowhere near the hallway before I slipped out of Elena’s room. The Prescott house had a way of pretending it was asleep while still watching you breathe.

I moved softly, barefoot, down the stairs and through the back door. The night air wrapped around me, cool and sharp, grounding. The garden lights were dimmed low, just enough to illuminate the stone path that led ...