I couldn’t speak. I simply nodded, my hand still pressing against my burning skin.

Richard turned back to Margaret, his jaw tight.

“You will hand over the key,” Richard said.

Margaret did not move.

She clutched the heavy brass key ring tighter against her silk blouse.

“This is my house, Richard,” Margaret said, her voice shaking slightly.

“And those are my grandchildren.”

Richard did not step back.

His shadow fell over her, tall and cold.

“I will not ask you again, Margaret,” Richard said.

“Give her the key.”

Margaret opened her mouth to argue, her eyes darting toward the stairs.

She looked for Thomas Vale or any of her staff, but the hallway above was silent.

I saw my chance.

The physical pain in my cheek was nothing compared to the panic in my chest.

I lunged forward.

My fingers brushed against the cold metal of the key ring.

I pulled with all the strength I had left.

The metal chain snapped.

The keys clattered into my palm, heavy and cold.

Margaret gasped, reaching out to grab my arm, but Richard stepped between us.