My mother watched the dry hills roll past the window.

“He was a good man, Natalie,” she said quietly.

“Your father.”

“I know,” I said.

“I should have fought harder for him,” she murmured.

“I let Gregory convince me that silence was the only way to protect you.”

I kept my eyes on the road ahead.

“We can change that now,” I said.

The coastal breeze began to cool the air as we neared the turnoff.

I pressed my foot down on the accelerator.

The ocean appeared on our left, a vast sheet of gray-blue slate under the afternoon sky.

We turned onto the private asphalt road that wound up the cliffs toward the estate gates.

The tall iron gates came into view, flanked by high stone walls.

My phone, resting in the console between the seats, began to vibrate.

The screen lit up with a text message from an unknown local number.

I glanced down at it as we slowed to a stop before the iron bars.

The message was brief.

*They know you are coming.*

I stared at the screen of my phone.