LILY'S POV
They came back at four thirty.
I heard the car before I saw the headlights. Harper was still at the table. I was at the window. Had been at the window for the last hour doing the particular thing where you're not watching for something but you're watching for something.
Three doors opened.
Mason. Owen. And a man I didn't know who moved like someone who had forgotten what it felt like to walk somewhere without checking over his shoulder first.
Damon Vael was forty years old and looked sixty. Not in the way of someone who had aged badly. In the way of someone who had been carrying something that didn't have a natural weight limit and had been carrying it for three years without putting it down once.
He stopped when he saw me through the window.
I stepped back from the glass
