The whisper of rain on the terrace stones outside Hayden’s room stirred her awake. She rolled onto her back. It was only nine in the evening, but to her still battered body it felt like midnight, so she had turned in early. Two long, white curtains billowed inward as a cool breeze delicately nudged them. She’d purposely left the terrace doors open to listen to the storm she knew would come. A dark shape moved just outside the curtains’ edge, wreathed in shadows. Her heart jolted into her throat and she froze. It only now occurred to her just how dangerous it was to have left the doors open. Had the assassin found her? Maybe this time she wouldn’t be allowed to live. Her body seized with panic at the chilling thought.
What should she do? Scream for help? Run?
“Hayden?” A familiar voice, g
