A dull thud.
Not loud.
Not accidental.
Something hitting wood with weight behind it.
My chest tightens instantly.
“Hadley,” I call, keeping my voice steady even as everything in me sharpens.
“I’m in here!” she calls back, too far down the hall for me to see her yet.
Another sound follows, closer this time, something dragging or scraping just outside the front of the house, and every instinct I have flips from unease to certainty.
We’re not alone.
I turn fast, moving back toward the main room, and Jace is already there, his posture changed, every line of him alert and focused in a way that tells me he heard it too.
“What was that?” I ask, even though I already know the answer isn’t going to be something simple.
“Stay here,” he says, low and controlled, already moving toward the front of the house.
“Don’t—”
He stops just long enough to look back at me, something hard and certain in his eyes that shuts down the rest of what I was about to say.
“Get her,” he adds. “Now.”
That’s enough.
I turn and move down the hall, faster this time, my pulse picking up as I reach Hadley and take her hand without explaining, pulling her back toward the main room.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice small now, picking up on the shift even if she doesn’t understand it.
“Nothing,” I say automatically, even as my grip tightens. “Just stay with me.”
By the time we reach the edge of the living room, the front door is already open.
Cold air cuts into the room.
The porch swing moves harder now, creaking with the wind or something else that passed too close to it.
And Jace stands just outside the threshold, looking out into the dark like he’s already tracking something I can’t see.
“What is it?” I ask, keeping Hadley behind me now.
He doesn’t answer right away.
That’s what scares me.
Because Jace always has an answer.
Finally, he steps back inside, his gaze still fixed past me toward the front of the property.
“Someone was here,” he says.
Not maybe or unsure, but certain.
