1
Ridley Kayne stood in the living room of the cramped apartment that should have felt like home, but now seemed a bizarre mix of familiar and foreign. It wasn’t the piece of plastic concealing the jagged hole in the window, or the wooden crate that had replaced the broken coffee table, or even the dark, wet patch on the floor where Ridley and her father had wiped away blood less than an hour ago. It was the secrets Ridley now knew lurked in every shadowed corner of this apartment.
It was also the person sitting on the couch across the room.
“Grandpa?” she whispered, her eyes trained on the elderly man. Goosebumps crawled across her arms and up the back of her neck. The letter with the tree drawing on it—the letter that had finally told Ridley exactly what she was—slipped from her finge
