A sudden, sharp vibration against my chest woke me.

I bolted upright in the dark room, gasping for air.

My phone was buzzing on the nightstand, casting a blue glow over the dingy wallpaper.

It wasn’t a call from Rylan.

It was a video message from an unknown number.

I swiped the screen with a trembling thumb and hit play.

The video was dark, but I recognized the room instantly.

It was the living room of my grandmother’s house.

The camera panned slowly across the antique velvet sofa.

Then it moved to the fireplace mantel, focusing on the framed photograph of my grandmother.

In the background, Solene’s voice whispered softly.

“You should have stayed home, Calla.”

The screen went black.

I did not sleep again that night.

The blue glow of the video message stayed burned into my eyes.

At six in the morning, I washed my face with cold water in the motel sink.

My hands were shaking, but my mind was entirely clear.

I opened my overnight bag and pulled out the thick manila envelope.