I ran to the window and pulled back the heavy curtain just an inch.

A dark sedan had pulled up behind our SUV, its engine idling in the snow.

The driver’s side door opened.

The driver stepped out into the swirling snow, pulling a heavy wool collar up against the biting wind.

I recognized the broad shoulders and the quick, decisive stride immediately.

It was Ryker.

I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding and let the curtain fall back into place.

“It is Ryker,” I called out to Clara.

She didn’t look up from Owen, but her shoulders visibly dropped with relief.

The front door clicked open, letting in a sudden swirl of freezing air and dry snowflakes.

Ryker stepped inside, shaking the white powder from his dark hair and heavy coat.

His face was pale, his jaw set in a tight, hard line.

He locked the door behind him, sliding the heavy brass deadbolt into place with a sharp click.

“Is everyone inside?” he asked, his voice low and strained.

“Yes,” I said, walking over to him.