By the time we returned to the mansion, the quiet warmth of the forest still lingered on our skin. My fingers were still curled around the empty thermos Liam had insisted I keep for “sentimental value,” even though I teased him about being a dramatic romantic.
The front porch light flicked on as we stepped up the wooden stairs, casting a soft glow over Liam’s face. He glanced down at me, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Home,” he murmured.
I nodded, still feeling like I was floating in a dream. “Home.”
But the moment we crossed the threshold, the air shifted.
A sharp scent—antiseptic and tension—hung in the foyer. Footsteps echoed from the hall, fast and purposeful, and a figure appeared from the shadows of the corridor.
Dr. Stephan.
His white coat was wrinkled, eyes sha
