‌By the time the others woke up the next morning, Sloane had developed a complete blueprint of the Serenity Ranch compound.‌

Agent Sterling helped herself to a cup of coffee, then turned to Lia. “Pull a stunt like that again and you’re out. Out of the program. Out of the house.”

Not a threat. Not a warning. A promise.

Lia didn’t bat an eye, but when Judd cleared his throat and she turned to face him, she actually winced.

“I can keep the FBI from treating you like you’re disposable,” Judd told Lia, his voice even and low. “But I can’t make you value yourself.” Next to Dean, Judd had been the one constant in Lia’s life since she was thirteen years old. “I can’t force you not to take chances with your own life. But you didn’t see me after my daughter died, Lia. If something happens to you? If I go to that place again? I can’t promise I’m coming back.”

Lia found it easier to be the recipient of anger than affection. Judd knew that, just like he knew she’d read the truth in every word.

“Okay,” Lia said, holding up her hands and stepping back. “I’m a bad, bad girl. Point taken. Can we focus on what Sloane has to say?”

Dean appeared in the doorway and registered Lia’s presence. “You’re okay.”

“More or less.” Lia’s reply was flippant, but she took a step toward him. “Dean—”

“No,” Dean said.

No, you don’t want to hear it? No, she doesn’t get to do this to you?

Dean didn’t elaborate.

“Thank goodness you’re home, Lia.” Michael strolled into the room. “Dean is awfully prone to talking about feelings when you’re MIA.”

“Would this be an inappropriate time to say ‘aha’?” Sloane interjected from the floor. “Because aha!”

If Sloane had been even the least bit capable of guile, I would have thought she’d come to Lia’s rescue on purpose.

“What did you find?” I asked, earning a look from Dean that said he knew quite well that I was capable of throwing Lia a lifeline.

“I started with Lia’s drawings and compared them to satellite photographs of the Serenity Ranch compound.” Sloane stood, bouncing to the tips of her toes and walking the perimeter of the diagram she’d laid out on the floor. “Everything lined up, except…” Sloane knelt to point a finger at one of the smaller buildings on her diagram. “This structure is roughly seven-point-six percent smaller on the inside than it should be.”

“That’s the chapel.” Lia tossed her ponytail over her shoulder. “No specific religious ties, but you wouldn’t know that from looking at it.”

I could hear Melody’s monotone in my memory. In Serenity, I’ve found balance. In Serenity, I’ve found peace.

I turned my attention back to Sloane. “What does it mean that the building is smaller on the inside than it should be?”

“It means that either the walls are abnormally thick…” Sloane caught her bottom lip in her teeth, then let it go. “Or there’s a hidden room.”

I didn’t have to sink very far into Holland Darby’s psyche to conclude that he was the kind of man who hid his secrets well. That’s your serenity. That’s your peace.

“Unfortunately,” Agent Sterling said, “none of that gives me probable cause to search the property.”

“No,” Lia said, reaching into her pocket. “But this does.”

She pulled a small glass vial out of her pocket. The liquid inside was milky white. “Not sure what it is,” she said, “but Darby keeps his flock well- dosed.”

“He’s drugging them.” Dean’s stony face showed no signs of softening— toward her or toward the situation.

Agent Sterling took the vial from Lia. “I’ll get this to the lab. If it’s a controlled substance, I can get a warrant to search the compound.”

Beside me, Sloane stared at the vial. “I’d give it even odds that it’s some kind of opiate.”

Your mother died of an overdose. I profiled Sloane as a matter of instinct, but another part of me couldn’t help profiling someone else—something else. Nightshade and whoever in this town had recruited him.

There’s a thin line between medicine and poison.