Oh shit oh shit oh shit. The cameras were everywhere, hidden in places she would never have looked. Nina had been watching her the whole time.

She flashed back to cracking open doors and drawers. The feel of Nina’s crisp white sheets. The claw-foot bath, the towel, the cabinet. And then Scott’s arms around her at the sunset point, his lips against hers. Nina must have seen everything.

Quickly, frantically, she searched the screens for Nina’s room and found it just before the picture changed again. The bed appeared to be as empty as when she’d last seen it. She pored over every image, scanning every corner.

Then, in Aurelia’s room, she saw something lumpy at the foot of the bed. A blanket, and a foot sticking out from underneath. Emily suddenly understood why Nina’s room seemed so unlived in. She slept on Aurelia’s floor like a guard dog.

The foot twitched, shocking Emily out of her trancelike state.

The keys.

She turned to the desk and ran her hands over its surface. Feverishly, she opened the drawers underneath, scrabbling through a neatly ordered array of notebooks and pens, receipts and paperclips. Come on, come on, they have to be here somewhere. She tried the shelves, the kitchen cabinets, and even the fridge, finding nothing but dust and empty spaces. But then, in a small recessed cupboard above the toilet, Emily found a battered green cashbox. Nestled inside it were her phone and passport. She almost passed out with relief. “Yes!” she hissed, fishing them out and clutching them to her chest—but her joy quickly faded as she realized that there could no longer be any doubt. It was all real.

Suddenly, there was a shift in the air and a small peeling sound, like a plaster being pulled from soft skin.

Emily whipped around.

In the doorway of the panic room, Aurelia stood wide-eyed and spectral in a white nightgown.

Emily stared, immobilized. The Grudge, she thought all of a sudden. That was the name of the terrifying Japanese horror movie.

Aurelia tilted her head to the side and frowned.

“Hi, sweetie,” Emily whispered, her mouth paper-dry. “What are you doing up?” There was a noise from somewhere above, a short series of delicate clicks and creaks, and her eyes flew to the ceiling. “Why don’t you go on back to bed?”

Aurelia’s narrow face fell. Beneath the hem of her nightgown, alabaster feet sickled toward each other like crescent moons.

Why her? Emily wondered. Why take this little girl and not any other? What had she done to deserve any of this? Impulsively, she reached out, and Aurelia’s skinny body slid wordlessly into her waiting arms. Emily stroked her hair, thinking that the jig would be up the second Nina discovered she had gone—and what would happen then? Would Nina just sit at Querencia and wait for the police? No. She’d run. She’d take Aurelia and disappear, maybe forever. She and Scott had enough money; they probably knew people who would hide them or help them. They might even harm Aurelia—who knew how far they would go to avoid prison?

What will happen to you, little sister?

Suddenly, another sound above their heads, louder this time.

Emily held her breath, listening.

It was the creak of a floorboard.

Whirling around, Emily checked the surveillance screens. The lump at the bottom of Aurelia’s bed had disappeared.

Without even thinking, Emily grabbed hold of Aurelia’s hand. “Come on,” she whispered, “let’s play a game.”

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

SCOTT

HELL WAS a never-ending dirt track, Scott decided.

He trudged along in the pitch dark using the flashlight on his phone to illuminate the snarl of tree roots and leaves beneath his feet, his suit jacket slung over his arm. He’d been walking for hours. Days. Weeks.

Blisters rose on his heels, the hard leather of his shoes whittling away at his skin. He stumbled over ruts and into holes, tripping on the sticky fingers of fallen branches. But nothing around him ever seemed to change. In fact, he seemed to be passing the same tree over and over again. The cicadas sang in a perpetual canon. An owl hooted precisely every thirty seconds (he counted). It was like a looped recording: “relaxing” sounds of nature.

He slowed down and looked behind him. Where was the goddamn gate? The track was long, but surely not this long. Had he taken a wrong turn? Maybe he’d gone the wrong way. Maybe, unbeknownst to him, there were actually dozens of tracks winding through the woodland, all leading to hidden mansions housing stolen children. Perhaps there was a whole community of child abductors out here in the woods. If only they’d known! Nina could have thrown a party.

Scott turned around and retraced his steps, then stopped and turned back. The trees seemed to reach for him, their spindly branches arching and probing. He tried and failed to recall the geography of the area. What else was around, other than Querencia? What were the landmarks? Where was the ocean? Which way was north? He brought his phone close to his face—surely there was a compass on it somewhere?—just in time to see the battery icon: one percent.

“No,” Scott breathed.

The screen went black.

“No!” He tapped on it, pressed the power button, banged it on the heel of his hand. Nothing. It was dead.

He looked up. The night pressed in like a bag over his head.

“MotherFUCK!” he yelled.

And somewhere to his left, far away among the trees, someone answered.

Scott whirled around, listening intently. “Hello?” he called.

Silence … and then there it was again, louder this time.

In the distance, someone was screaming.

Scott started to run.

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

EMILY

“AURELIA! AURELIA!”

Emily tore across the lawn and down the driveway with Nina’s increasingly frantic cries snapping at her heels like wolves. In one hand she clutched the quad-bike keys; in the other she gripped Aurelia’s clammy little fingers as hard as she dared.

Aurelia was running, too, but she slowed to a reluctant trot as they neared the sheds, and Emily had to drag her the rest of the way.

When they reached the bike shed, she reached into her pocket. The key felt slippery in her hands, a tiny silver fish.

“Aurelia!” The beam of a flashlight flashed through the trees behind them.

Emily grabbed the padlock. The key slid in easily but wouldn’t turn. Emily twisted it one way and then the other, the metal digging into her skin—come on, come ON!—but the stupid thing just wouldn’t give. Then it slipped out and fell through her fingers. She groped at the ground, raking through the grass, but she couldn’t feel it. The key was gone.

Crouching on all fours, she peered through the leaves of a shrub.

Nina was standing in the middle of the lawn, brandishing her flashlight like a sword.

It was dark, but even without the flashlight, it wouldn’t take long. The bushes around them were low and thin; just a few more steps and they would be visible.

Emily looked down at the grass, then up at the padlock. There was no time for the bike. “Come on, sweetie, let’s go,” Emily hissed, turning to Aurelia, but she wasn’t listening. She was ashen and sweaty, shaking in her thin nightgown, her eyes clamped shut. Little squeaks escaped her lips.

Emily knew she had to act fast. She tried to think of a way to engage Aurelia’s attention, some way to calm her, to make her smile …

And then she remembered. Emily grabbed Aurelia’s hand. “Ecoute,” she whispered, hoping against hope. “Tout va bien. Je promets.”

Aurelia went still. She opened her eyes.

Emily held her breath.

“Aurelia!” Nina sounded like she was getting closer.

Emily’s whole body was telling her to run. Thirty meters of open driveway lay between them and the gate. They would have to break their cover and move fast if they were going to make it through. Fuck, please let the gate be unlocked, please let the system be on. She placed her hand on Aurelia’s cheek, willing herself to stay calm.

“Tout va bien,” Emily said again. The French was clearly helping but her mind had gone blank. “Je ne te … je ne te ferai…”

“Aurelia!”

Aurelia blinked and turned her face toward Nina’s raspy cries.

“No, look at me, please,” Emily begged. “S’il te pla?t, je … je besoin que…” Come on, think of the words.

Aurelia whimpered and, screwing her eyes shut again, tried to twist her wrist from Emily’s grasp.

“Amandine,” Emily felt her chin wobble. “Amandine, please. I have to take you home.”

Her words had an instant and unexpected effect. Aurelia’s eyes snapped open, her little face radiating pure terror. Then she opened her mouth, her lips spreading slowly over her teeth like an animal about to bite, and screamed bloody murder.

Emily set off at a full sprint, dragging Aurelia behind her, thinking of nothing but the gate, of getting through it, of putting as much distance as possible between them and Nina.