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My stomach hurts thinking about it. “And if…?” I draw a deep breath. “If he’s such a psycho, who knows if in his house here…?”

I don’t even have to finish. Everyone stiffens.

“What if he does have children at the house here in Madison?” Audrey whispers. “What if we missed some clue? By the time the police get the warrant for the house in Wausau and find anything…”

“Yeah, we need to act now. We have to check the house one more time,” Rafe says. “But we’ve looked everywhere. Where—?”

“That thud you heard,” Tessa says, her knee jumping nervously where her legs are crossed. “What if there’s a room we haven’t checked?”

“We checked all the rooms,” Asher mutters. “But what if—”

“A basement,” Zane says.

There’s a hush.

“We didn’t find a door to the basement.”

“Could be hidden. Walled up.”

“But the thud…?”

“May be an outside door.”

Holy shit. I feel as if someone is holding my heart in a tight grip. “You think there are kids trapped in there?”

Suddenly everyone is getting up and gathering their jackets.

Rafe slides his arm around me and hauls me toward the door. “Time to find out.”

***

Energy crackles in the air between us as we spill out of our cars and circle Kenneth Shaw’s house once more.

Something has changed. We have a specific purpose, a specific destination this time around, regardless of how flimsy the clues are.

We spread along the length of the house and start kicking at the heaps of fallen leaves, trying to see something. Anything. Erin and Tyler had a few flashlights at home, and we have brought them with us. Small cylinders of light cut through the dark as we check.

“Here!” We turn toward Asher who’s holding up the flashlight to illuminate something Audrey is clearing litter from. “It’s a trapdoor.”

A trapdoor with a huge padlock, flush with the ground.

“Jesus fuck.” Zane stalks up to it and drops to his knees. He raps a fist on it. Once. Twice.

There’s a distant thud from inside.

I can barely hear it over the sound of blood rushing in my ears.

There’s someone in there.

Good God. Someone is in there, and we have to open that door.

“Gonna get the tools from the car,” Asher says, and I sink down on my knees beside Zane, putting a hand on his arm.

“Can’t believe this,” I breathe.

“We still don’t know what we’ll find,” he mutters, but he has both hands splayed over the rusty metal as if he can feel something through it.

When Asher returns, everyone gathers around the trapdoor. He works his magic, pushing and twisting a thin metal rod into the padlock. Who knew Asher Devlin is a specialist in breaking and entering?

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