Camilla pov...
The car pulled up to the house.
I had been hungry on the way home—ravenous, actually. I ate chips, then more chips, then a bucket of chicken. But now, staring at the flashing lights, the hunger vanished.
Blue and red lights flashed against the snow. Police cars lined the driveway. Yellow tape stretched across the front entrance, strung between the stone pillars like a warning.
My heart stopped.
"What is this?" I whispered.
Lucian didn't answer. His face was pale. His hand was on the door handle.
"Stay here."
"No—"
"Stay in the car, Camilla."
He stepped out before I could argue. The cold air rushed in, sharp and bitter. I watched him walk toward the tape.
Then I opened my door and followed.
The officers saw him coming. I saw their faces change.
Fear.
They knew who he was. They knew what he had done. But they didn't move the tape. They didn't step aside.
