Ana slowed the car down, turning off the high beams.

We rolled forward in the dim light of the fog lamps.

The main house sat on a low hill, surrounded by the dark shapes of the agave fields.

A single yellow light was shining from the second-story window.

It was Abigail’s study.

“He is inside,” I said.

“The SUV is parked by the barn,” Ana whispered.

I looked to the right and saw the black vehicle.

Its doors were closed, but the hood was still steaming in the cool air.

“Stay in the car, Ana,” I said.

“Stay in the car, Ana,” I said.

Ana grabbed my sleeve.

“He is dangerous, Alana,” she said.

“I know exactly what he is,” I replied.

I pulled my arm free and opened the passenger door.

The damp night air hit my face, cold and heavy with the scent of wet earth.

I stepped out onto the gravel road.

My boots sank slightly into the soft, muddy driveway.

I closed the door quietly, only letting the latch click.

The rain had slowed to a steady, thin drizzle that clung to my hair.