Someone was shouting.

The front doors of the mansion creaked open, and the cold wind rushed into the foyer below, rattling the crystal chandelier in the hallway.

Julian turned around, his face set in a grim expression.

“It is time,” he said.

We heard the heavy footsteps of the federal agents ascending the marble stairs.

The sound of hard-soled shoes on stone grew louder with every second.

Investigator Vance walked to the double doors of the library and opened them wide.

The bright lights of the grand hallway flooded the dim room.

At the bottom of the stairs, the first of the guests had gathered, looking up in confusion.

I saw the flash of a camera from the lobby below.

Miranda took a slow step backward, her hand reaching for the edge of the desk to steady herself.

The phone on the desk lit up once more, the screen flashing red with an incoming call from the national news desk.

The red light of the phone cast a dull glow over the polished mahogany of the desk.

No one moved to answer it.