“What?” Hailey asked, her composure slipping.

The air inside the greenhouse was thick and heavy, smelling of damp earth and the cloying, sweet scent of white lilies a smell that reminded her of her father’s funeral.

She looked around the glass walls, feeling trapped. Seeing no other door, she turned to Lorenzo. He didn't speak. He simply walked past her, his movements slow and deliberate, toward a single wooden chair tucked in the corner.

Lorenzo moved the chair aside, the legs scraping ...