“You stupid girl,” Yasmin cried, rushing to the side of the bed.

She reached out to grab my hair, but Mark blocked her arm.

“There’s no time for that,” Mark barked, his face twisting in panic. “We need to get the documents and get to the car.”

“The car?” Yasmin laughed, a high, hysterical sound. “Did you hear those footsteps downstairs?”

Outside, the darkness was suddenly broken by a sweep of bright blue light.

It painted the floral wallpaper of the bedroom in sharp, rhythmic pulses.

Then came the red.

The alternating colors splashed across the ceiling, illuminating the peeling paint.

Gillian ran to the window, pulling the lace curtain aside.

“There are cars,” she gasped, her voice rising in pitch. “Three of them. They have shields on the doors.”

Mark dropped the tablet onto the bed.

He reached into his jacket pocket, his hand searching for something.

My chest tightened as I watched his shoulder tense.

“Where is the physical deed?” Mark demanded, turning on me. “The one signed by Abigail?”

“Ana has it,” I said. “It was never in the house.”