Through the frosted glass panels of the entrance, I could see the flashing blue and red lights of a police vehicle casting long shadows across the driveway.

The heavy front door rattled again, the sound echoing through the high-ceilinged foyer.

The blue and red lights stained the white walls, casting long, eerie shadows that stretched toward us.

“I will get it,” Eleanor said, her voice perfectly calm.

She walked past us, her silk skirt rustling softly against the marble floor.

Nathan reached down and picked up my phone from the floor, handing it back to me with a hand that would not stop shaking.

“Do not say a word, Emily,” he whispered.

“Just let me handle this.”

Eleanor opened the massive oak door, letting in a gust of cold, damp air.

Two police officers stood on the threshold, their heavy black boots wet from the evening rain.

Beyond them, at the end of the long driveway, the iron gates were closed, but headlight beams from news vans were already cutting through the wet trees.

“May I help you, officers?” Eleanor asked, her tone polite and welcoming.