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PROLOGUE
Maria’s stomach twisted with nerves as she approached her father’s estate, the nighttime air cool and damp around her. She hadn’t heard from him in three days. Not a text, not a call, nothing. She ran her thumb along the strap of her purse as she walked up the porch. The lights were on inside.
He’s probably fine… just keeping to himself…
Still, it wasn’t like him to go dark for so long, and he’d recently gotten divorced from his latest wife, Patricia. Maria had been worried about her father ever since—apparently, he’d even stopped having the housekeepers over.
So when Maria didn’t hear from him, her worries grew more and more by the day until she’d had enough. She had to drive down to Portland to see him for herself.
Now that she was here, looking down at the eerily vacant landscape of his lavish estate, she was almost scared of the answer. Maybe her father had locked himself in his basement. Maybe he’d been drinking again.
Recently retired, the honorable Senator Chris Barlow was no stranger to scandals. Maria loved her father, but she knew that his constant carousel of wives was a bad look for his political career. It was a good thing he finally retired. Maria was in her thirties now, and she wanted to see her father unwind from his stressful, highly political life.
Maria took a deep breath and steeled herself. She walked up to the porch and rang the doorbell, but no one answered.
The quiet of the night was only broken by the chirping of crickets. Maria tried again, pressing her finger harder against the button this time, but still there was no response from inside.
She stepped back and looked around, confused. The lights were on inside, but not a single sound seemed to be emanating from within. There were no footsteps or shuffling of any kind. It was as if the house had been abandoned altogether—a ghost estate in an otherwise bustling, wealthy neighborhood.
Her worry grew. So, he wasn’t answering, but he’d given her a key. Maria fumbled to remove it from her purse.
The door opened with a creak and Maria stepped inside. It was eerily quiet. The stillness of the house seemed to swallow her up as she slowly made her way through the foyer, her feet sinking into the thick, plush rugs beneath her, resting on the marble floor.
“Dad?” Maria called out. Her voice echoed through the house.
Maria’s eyes scanned the home, taking in every detail: ornate chandeliers hanging from the ceiling; heavy velvet curtains draped over tall windows; marble statues standing in corners of the room like silent sentinels; paintings in gilded frames adorning the walls. Everything was just as she remembered it from the last time she was here—but this time, there was no sign of life.
She continued to explore further into the house, finally coming to a stop outside her father’s study. She pushed open the door and peered inside—it was empty too. He wasn’t here either.
Maria felt a wave of panic wash over her. She had to check upstairs.
She quickly made her way up the grand staircase, each step squeaking beneath her feet. As she reached the top of the stairs, a strange buzzing sound filled the air. It was coming from one of the rooms down the hallway.
The bathroom.
Maria cautiously approached the door—the buzzing grew louder as she did so.
It sounded almost like… bees.
No, she had to be imagining it. Her father was deathly allergic to bees; they were his greatest fear, and besides, it was just absurd! It had to be something else.
But as Maria stood before the door, something slipped out from beneath it.
A giant hornet, the size of her palm. Bigger than she’d ever seen. Maria screamed and stomped on it, and it exploded beneath the sole of her shoe.
Her heart pounded louder now. The buzzing still continued from inside the bathroom.
“Dad?” Maria called out. She banged on the door. “Dad, are you in there?”
No answer.
Maria slowly opened the door, and a swarm of giant hornets flew out, buzzing around her head like angry bees. She screamed and ducked for cover, swatting them away from her face.
When she finally looked up, what she saw made her heart stop.
Her father was seated on a chair, dead, his body covered in the stings of dozens of hornets.
CHAPTER ONE
