Mary’s POV

I know something is wrong before anyone tells me.

It starts as a feeling. Not fear exactly. More like the ground shifting under my feet, just enough to make me lose my balance for half a second. I hate that feeling. I have spent my whole life making sure nothing shifts unless I move it myself.

I am standing in the living room of the house Henry rented for me, staring at the window like it might blink first. My phone sits on the table, screen dark, silent. Too silent.

No calls from ...