The ride back to the DeLuca mansion was fast and blurry. 

Val sat in the back seat, with Olive silent at the wheel, her hands curled into fists on her lap as the streets rolled by in streaks of color. The city’s noise barely reached her—only the disturbing sound of the name munchkin still echoing in her head.

By the time the mansion gates came into view, her chest was tight with something she could hardly name—fear, anger, betrayal, maybe all three wound so tight they ...