“I have to ensure the perimeter is clear,” he said. “Marcus is taking you to the cottage on the south ridge.”

“Is it safe there?”

“It’s off the grid,” he said. “The land belongs to a shell company they don’t know about.”

He reached into his pocket and handed me the glowing phone.

“Keep this on,” he said. “Only my number can reach it.”

“Julian,” I said, my voice barely a whisper over the sound of the lake. “Be careful.”

He gave a single, tight nod, his eyes lingering on mine for a second before he closed the door.

The SUV began to move, rolling silently out of the boathouse.

We drove along the dark, unlit path that hugged the rocky shoreline.

The snow was falling thicker now, covering our tracks almost instantly.

I looked out the back window.

The limestone mansion looked like a dark fortress against the gray sky.

Emma leaned her head against my lap, her breathing slow and even.

“He knew they were coming,” Margaret said from the front seat.

“How?” I asked.