I looked back for a split second to see if Roman was behind me.

My foot caught on a hidden root.

I pitched forward, tumbling down a steep, muddy slope.

I rolled over and over, losing my grip on the empty manila folder.

I hit the bottom of the ravine with a hard thud, the breath knocked completely out of my lungs.

I lay there in the cold mud, gasping.

Up at the top of the slope, a flashlight beam swept through the trees.

“I saw her slide down,” a voice called out.

The beam of light began to bounce down the muddy incline toward me.

I pressed my back against a wet log, trying to shrink into the shadows.

The flashlight beam flickered over the mud just inches from my boots.

“Look around the brush,” a voice ordered from above.

I recognized that voice.

It wasn’t one of the intruders who had broken into the house.

It was Elias Ward.

The young security guard who usually stood watch by the eastern gate of the Blackwell estate.

“Elias?” I whispered, my voice caught in my throat.