The smoke detector dangled by a single wire, mocking me. I had checked the lamp bases, the underside of the dresser, and the crevices of the crown molding, and had found nothing. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I was becoming paranoid.
I sat back on my heels, the screwdriver resting heavy in my palm. The silence of the east wing was no longer comforting. Darian’s words in the office, I want you to feel hope, echoed in my ears. I looked around the room.
My eyes traced the lines of the high ceiling, from recessed light to recessed light. Eventually my eyes fell on the curved edge of the bed’s canopy. I dragged the chair up to the foot of the bed, and stepped up onto the seat of it. I started sliding my hand along the top of the wooden frame. Nothing.
“You’re over-thinking it, Tess,” I tried t
