The Maybach was custom-built and armored. The collision had barely hurt it. At most, it needed some paintwork.

Lucian rested with his eyes closed for the rest of the drive.

The car was silent.

I stared at my hands.

It had lasted only seconds, but I had thrown Pearl several yards with these hands.

I could touch solid things.

Somehow.

What had I done to gain that ability? And why had it vanished?

I went over every moment.

Then I remembered.

The tree.

Just before I grabbed Pearl, three blood-red streams had come out of that ancient tree and entered my spirit.

I had felt hot.

When I lost the ability, the heat had faded, too.

Perhaps heaven hadn’t answered my prayer at all.

Perhaps something in that tree had helped me.

I needed to go back and find out.

Soon the car entered Rosehaven and stopped outside the main house.

Lucian had barely reached the entrance when Adrian stepped out to meet him, carrying a brown envelope.

“Lucian.”

They went into the living room.

Lucian tossed aside his jacket and sat down. He tapped a cigarette from the pack, put it between his lips, and lit it.

After a deep drag, he asked, “Any news of her?”

He had sent Adrian to search for me.

That was who he meant.

His tone was even, but I thought I heard something tremble beneath it.

Was he afraid?

Afraid to hear I was alive?

Or dead?

“Not yet.” Adrian avoided his eyes.

Some of the tension left Lucian’s back. He leaned against the seat and exhaled, studying Adrian through the smoke.

“Then did you come here hoping to die?”

He sounded almost lazy.

It chilled me to the bone.

Now I understood why people’s knees gave way around him. This man could make a death threat sound like seduction.

Sweat appeared on Adrian’s forehead.

“I have two other pieces of news. The first is about Slade.”

Lucian raised an eyebrow.

“He implicated the Whitmores?”

“No. He died in the hospital half an hour ago.”

Lucian went still.

“Apparently, he went berserk during an examination and attacked the doctor with a blade he’d hidden. Hayes arrived to check on him just then and shot him dead.”

I wasn’t surprised.

I had never expected the police to trace Slade back to Julian.

What I didn’t understand was why a vicious killer would willingly give his life for the Whitmores.

Adrian opened the envelope and laid out a stack of photographs.

“You asked me to dig deeper into his background. There was plenty to find. He was in Fairhaven two years ago, too. At the time, he contacted only one person.”

He selected a numbered photograph and pushed it toward Lucian.

I recognized the woman instantly.

Martha Dunn.

“She works for Stella’s adoptive mother. Vivian brought her into the Whitmore household from her own family. She served her for almost thirty years.”

I remembered.

After the kidnapping two years ago, I had barely escaped with my life. When I came home, Martha was gone.

Vivian said something had happened back in her hometown and she had needed to leave.

I hadn’t thought much of it.

But Martha had been there when the Whitmores adopted me. She had always been Vivian’s closest confidante.

Then she simply disappeared.

Afterward, Vivian behaved as though Martha had never existed. Whenever I brought her up, she changed the subject.

I had thought her cold-hearted.

Now I saw she had been erasing Martha from our lives.

Martha must have contacted Slade for her. Then she left so there would be no connection to find.

Vivian had arranged my kidnapping.

Another memory struck.

While I searched all over Fairhaven for the men who had taken me, Vivian had hired a crew to build a swimming pool behind the house.

Several large men in masks worked there for more than a month. They ate and slept on the property.

The construction workers.

They had been my kidnappers.

Vivian had hidden them right beneath my nose.

A chill went through me.

“Can you find Martha?” Lucian asked.

“She died six months ago. But she had a daughter.”

Adrian produced a grainy surveillance image.

A young man and woman stood together, looking like a couple. The man’s face was unclear, but his build and profile resembled Slade’s.

I didn’t recognize the woman.

She was holding something.

I leaned closer.

A baby.

The timestamp was from five years ago.

Lucian set down the photograph.

“So Martha’s daughter had Slade’s child five years ago.”

His eyes went dark. A cold smile cut across his face.

“No wonder.”

He didn’t finish.

He didn’t need to.

Vivian controlled the one weakness Slade had left.

He might not care about a woman.

But he cared about his child.

The last piece of humanity in him.

“Unfortunately, none of this directly connects Vivian to Slade,” Adrian said. “And now he’s dead. She spends her time eating vegetarian meals and reciting prayers. Who would have thought she was capable of this?”

Something occurred to him. His expression grew serious.

“Do you think she’s behind Stella’s disappearance, too?”

Lucian crushed out his cigarette.

Something moved beneath the gray-blue surface of his eyes.

“Vivian wasn’t the only one hurting her.”