They were nearly half a mile down the gravel driveway, shrouded by overgrown ivy and wild blackberry bushes.

“What are you staring at?” Victoria asked, her voice sharp with suspicion.

She was watching my face, trying to read the thoughts behind my eyes.

“Nothing,” I said, forcing my expression to go blank.

“You know where it is,” she said, stepping closer. “I can see it on your face.”

“I don’t know anything,” I said, taking a step backward toward the hallway.

“Charles, block the door,” Victoria ordered.

Charles didn’t move immediately, his face torn between fear of his sister and guilt.

“Charles!” Victoria yelled.

He finally stepped into the doorway, his bulky frame filling the exit.

“You’re not leaving this room until we search your bags,” Victoria said, her eyes scanning my coat pockets.

“You have no right to touch me,” I said, my voice steady, though my heart was pounding.

Outside, the wind began to howl through the bare branches of the oaks, rattling the loose glass in the windowpane.

A shadow fell over the room as the clouds blocked the afternoon sun.