By nine past, I was already inside the North Tower. It was part of the estate, but having lived on the main grounds for only a few months, this wing still felt unfamiliar. I climbed slowly, shoes dangling from two fingers, careful of which step might give me away.
The note only said the tower, but gave no exact location. I scanned the darkness, hoping to spot him, until my eyes darted to a light upstairs. I followed it.
I pushed the door open; he was already there, sitting on the arm of a covered chair with one boot resting on the seat and a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He’d been waiting long enough for the ice to melt flat against the glass.
"You came," he said, shifting his position.
"You told me to." I stepped inside and shut the door behind me. The latch clicked loudly in
