I reached for it, expecting it to be Damon calling to check on us.

Instead, the screen showed a restricted number.

I hesitated, then pressed the button and held the phone to my ear.

“Nora,” a voice said on the other end.

It wasn’t Damon’s deep baritone.

It was a woman’s voice, raspy and weak, but unmistakable.

“You think you won,” Elaine whispered.

My hand froze, the warmth of the tea mug suddenly vanishing.

“Elaine,” I said, my voice barely audible. “You’re in custody.”

A low, dry laugh came through the speaker.

“Do you really think a cell can hold the people I work for?” she asked.

The line went static for a second, then cleared.

“Look out your front window, Nora,” she said.

The call disconnected.

I stood up slowly, the chair scraping against the wooden floorboards.

Marlene looked up at me, her eyes widening in concern. “Nora? What is it?”

I didn’t answer.

I walked to the kitchen window, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The snow was falling heavily now, blanketing the yard in white.