April didn’t remember her mother, and she had zero recollection of the day she was abandoned. Even the fire at the museum was mostly a blur, but as the rocks bit into her palms and the wind blew through her hair, April knew she’d always remember the night she inched closer and closer to the mini mansion. And the evil uncle. And the key that, according to Gabriel Winterborne, wouldn’t solve anything at all.
But Evert obviously thought the key was important. So it had to be important. It just had to.
A flash of lightning filled the sky, and the wind smelled like rain, and April lay on her stomach for a long time, looking down on the mini mansion and waiting for the inevitable. She half expected to hear Gabriel’s voice in her head—telling her she was making a mistake, that Evert was dangerous and April was a screwup. But the voice didn’t come. Instead, all April heard was the sound of the wind and the thunder and the distant barking of dogs, which shouldn’t have been a surprise, because, seriously, only one thing can come from strapping a whole package of perfectly cooked bacon to the SadieSeer 200 and flying it far away from where April lay waiting. Not all of the guards would go that way. But the dogs would.
And April was small. April was quick. April just had to watch the cameras and stick to the plan. Lightning flashed. Thunder boomed. And then she started to run. She stayed low to the ground, blending with the outcroppings of rocks until she reached the side of the house.
She tried to keep her mind on what mattered: the key. And survival. Even when the rough wood of the trellis bit into her hands, she kept scurrying up the wall like a spider, clinging to anything she could as she inched higher and higher. Even when her fingers slipped on the old boards, she saved herself because . . . well . . . April had always had to save herself.
And, eventually, she couldn’t even hear the barking anymore, so either the dogs had found the bacon or else the storm was just too loud. Or maybe it was the pounding of April’s heart that made the whole world feel like the volume had been turned down—like it was some kind of dream as April reached the windowsill and slid inside.
They’d been watching Evert on the monitors for days, and it felt a little like déjà vu to stand in the house, just twenty or so feet away from his bed. And his bedside table. And the key that lay there, more tempting than anything April had ever seen in her life. This was the only time he ever took it off, and she wanted to grab it—grab it and run and not look back.
When the hardwood floor creaked beneath her feet, she froze. Lightning cracked. Thunder boomed. But the lump on the bed laid perfectly still.
Too still, April thought as a hot breath blew on the back of her neck and someone said, “You’re not quite the mouse I’d hoped to catch.” The light flicked on. “But you’ll do.”
April had thought Evert Winterborne couldn’t possibly look any more evil, but, well, April was frequently wrong.
His eyes were too wide. And his smile was too big. And, really, no one should ever be that excited about catching an intruder. And yet he practically beamed as he glanced at the big beefy guard by the door.
“I told you no one can resist an open window.”
“Yes, sir,” the guard said, and April knew for certain it had been a trap. She looked at the bed.
“Pillows under the blankets?” she asked, mad at herself. She’d pulled that same trick a dozen times, and she shouldn’t have fallen for it. She shouldn’t have fallen for any of it! Her face turned red, but she didn’t flinch when Evert crouched down as if to put himself on April’s level. But April would never be on his level. No. April was better than him. And she knew it.
Especially when he said, “Where is Gabriel Winterborne?”
He all but licked his lips, but April just shrugged and said, “Dead. Thought you knew.”
Evert grabbed her arms and jerked her close. “I know you’ve been helping him. I know he’s back. And you’re going to bring him to me.”
“I’m not doing anything for you.”
“Oh, but you don’t have to do a thing. He’ll come for you. And when he does, I’ll be ready.”
April didn’t mean to laugh. Really, she didn’t. It was just one of those times where her inside thoughts got mixed up with her outside actions and she couldn’t help herself.
“What is it?” Evert snapped, shaking her. “You think this is funny?”
She knew she was supposed to be afraid, but he didn’t get it. He really didn’t.
“Gabriel Winterborne doesn’t care about me!” April watched Evert’s eyes go wide, and she realized what she’d said—what she’d done. But it didn’t matter, April decided, because he was right. “Yeah. He’s alive. And, yeah. He’s coming. But it won’t be to save me.” April stopped laughing. Suddenly, nothing was funny anymore. “It’ll be to kill you.”
And then there was a boom that was louder than thunder and a flash that was brighter than lightning.
And then the lights went out.