Xander left me to guard the room. He said that he would be back—with his brothers.
Easier said than done. Jameson had made his feelings clear. Grayson had made himself very hard to find. Nash had never gotten sucked in to their grandfather’s game in the first place. What if they don’t come? Whatever was behind this door, it was what Tobias Hawthorne had wanted us to find. October eighteenth wasn’t the answer—not in its entirety.
Out of all the people in the world with my birthday, why me? What was the billionaire sorry for? There are too many pieces, I thought. I can’t fit it together—any of it. I needed help.
Overhead, there were footsteps. Abruptly, the sound stopped. “Xander?” I called. No response. “Xander, is that you?”
More footsteps—coming closer. Who else knows about this tunnel? I’d been so intent on finding answers and following this to its end that I’d almost forgotten: Someone in Hawthorne House had given Drake access to the tunnels.
These tunnels.
I pressed my back against the wall. I could hear someone moving directly overhead. The footsteps stopped. A figure appeared above me, backlit and looming over my only exit from this space. Female. Pale.
“Rebecca?”
