(Hailey’s POV)

The house was quiet when I returned. The kind of quiet that made the walls feel alive, listening, waiting for someone to slip.

I stood by the main door, my shoes in my hand, my heart racing like a criminal sneaking into a vault. The clock above the hallway ticked softly 2:47 a.m. I winced. My father’s guards were probably asleep by now, but I couldn’t take chances. One wrong creak and I’d be dead before dawn, at least socially.

I tiptoed across the marble floor, the cold ...