I packed June’s diaper bag and called Sarah to come over early.

“Keep the doors locked,” I told Sarah as I handed June to her.

“Do not let anyone in. Not even Carter.”

Sarah nodded, her eyes wide with worry.

“I promise, Evelyn,” she said.

I walked out to my car.

The air was freezing, biting at my cheeks as I opened the driver’s side door.

I drove toward Hartwell House, the grand, imposing estate that had once felt like a dream and now felt like a prison.

The iron gates were open, waiting for me.

I parked in the gravel courtyard.

My hand went to my pocket, feeling the cold plastic of the recorder.

I switched it to *ON*.

I took a deep breath, stepped out of the car, and walked up the stone steps.

The heavy oak door opened before I could even knock.

Vivian’s butler, Thomas, stood there, his face expressionless.

“They are waiting for you in the library, Mrs. Hartwell,” he said.

I stepped inside, the grand foyer smelling of old wax and lemon polish.