*My dearest sister,* the letter began.

*They are trying to take her from me, but I will not let them use the estate to buy our silence.*

*If they find out about the transfer, they will destroy us both.*

*Please keep Megan safe until Daniel and I can return to claim what is rightfully—*

The words cut off abruptly at the jagged, torn edge.

“Claire,” I said, my heart pounding violently. “What does this mean?”

“It means we did what we had to do to protect Waverly Lane,” Claire said, her eyes suddenly cold.

“Whose child is Megan?” I demanded, standing up.

Before Claire could answer, a loud, heavy knock rattled the front door downstairs.

The sound echoed up the stairwell, sharp and demanding.

I froze, holding the torn letter and the photograph against my chest.

“Don’t answer it,” Claire whispered, her hand gripping my arm with surprising strength.

“No,” I said, pulling away from her. “I need answers.”

I ran down the stairs, my boots clattering on the oak steps.

The knocker banged against the front door again, louder this time.