It was a text from Lydia Crane.

I pulled it out, keeping the screen shielded with my hand.

*Clara, I found the original filing,* the message read. *The zoning transfer is scheduled for tomorrow morning at nine. If we don’t have proof of the title defect by then, the county will approve the sale.*

I looked back up the hill.

Marcus’s flashlight was moving toward the gatehouse.

If he went inside, he would see the broken lockbox and the open wall safe.

He would know exactly what I had taken.

“Clara,” Caroline whispered from the darkness below me on the path. “I slipped.”

I looked down and saw her sitting on the damp earth, clutching her ankle.

Up on the ridge, the light in the gatehouse flickered on.

A moment later, a furious roar echoed through the trees.

“Clara!” Marcus screamed.

Caroline gasped, her hand digging into my arm.

Above us, the beam of Marcus’s flashlight swept through the pine canopy.

The yellow light cut through the dark branches, missing us by inches.

“Can you stand?” I whispered.

“I don’t think so,” she whimpered, clutching her left ankle.