POV: Elena
For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
The photograph rested between Jace's fingers, but it no longer looked like ordinary paper. It looked like a threat.
The image had been taken from outside the Calloway house. I recognized the sitting room immediately—the grand piano near the window, the marble fireplace, and the navy curtains Richard insisted had been imported from Italy. Jace and I were standing in the background, arguing about something I couldn't even remember anymore.
Whoever had taken the picture hadn't been standing close. They had been watching us from a distance.
"They followed us," I whispered. Jace's jaw tightened. "No. I looked at him. "They were already there."
Before I could ask what he meant, Sandra glanced between us with growing concern. "Is something
