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wife. It was easier to be vulnerable that way. Easier to turn off the monster he called the Politician. “I understand he hates me—”

“He doesn’t hate you.” A soft chuckle. “He hates everything you stand for.”

Grayson didn’t even force a laugh. “The years have taken a toll on him. It hasn’t been easy having an absentee father.” He paused, hoping she would correct him. She didn’t. “I guess I hoped he’d eventually see what I’m trying to do here.”

“And what are you trying to do?”

Grayson turned to his wife. He knew what answer he’d give a reporter, but this was his wife. He couldn’t lie to her; he didn’t want to.

Before he formed a genuine answer, there was a sharp knock at the door. Mary pulled the sweater tighter around her shoulders. Grayson straightened his tie.

“Come in.”

Murphy walked through the door. He glanced at Mary first, then locked eyes with Grayson. “We found his car, sir.”

Mary gasped and clasped a hand over her mouth. She wouldn’t cry in front of the man, but Grayson knew she wouldn’t hold the tears back forever.

“Tell me everything.”

Another glance at Mary and then back at Grayson. “His Mercedes was abandoned in a parking garage downtown. The window on the driver’s side was smashed in, but there’s no evidence your son was in there. No blood or signs of a struggle. The police are searching for more evidence now.”

“You called the police?” The Politician was back, and Grayson turned its full fury onto his bodyguard. “Why?”

“Someone reported the damaged vehicle. A friend on the force notified me. Some of my men are with them right now, on standby. They’ll relay any information they can.”

“I have to call Anastasia.”

“Your publicist?” Mary’s voice dripped with venom. Grayson prided himself on never giving Mary a reason to suspect him of any wrongdoing with Anastasia, but that didn’t mean his wife liked her. “Why?”

“She’ll find out sooner or later.” Grayson loosened his tie again. There was no reason to pretend he was keeping it together anymore. “It’ll be better if she hears it from me.”

6

Cassie’s grip on the steering wheel loosened. She allowed the ache to dissipate from her hands. Her knuckles turned pink again. The panic faded away. She’d been here before, countless times. She now recognized the dream almost as soon as she dropped into it.

The inky blackness.

The pull of the car.

The soft glow in the distance.

The course of the dream was imprinted on her mind. The car would drift regardless of whether she tried to correct it. Figures would appear on the road before her. At the last possible second, she’d be able to yank the wheel to miss them. She’d tumble out of the car and come face to face with her sister, whose lips would whisper a portent that Cassie was desperate to hear, even if it crushed her heart.

As Cassie let the dream take its course, a sense of peace filled her. Caught somewhere between resignation and determination, she was dead set on making the most out of this opportunity. When her sister appeared, she would ask her a question. Maybe she’d shake loose a memory, if only she understood how to trigger it.

A single figure in front of her was the first indication something was wrong. It had always been the silhouettes of three people—her parents and her sister, age five. Cassie had learned to control the car enough to avoid hitting her family. She’d even accepted hearing those dreadful words come from Laura’s mouth.

You’re the reason they took Sarah. You’re the reason she died.

But she hadn’t expected to see the figure of the little boy standing where her family should’ve been. As always, he wore an oversized t-shirt and neon shorts. But the colors were vibrant and new. She had never seen him so solid. He looked normal.

He looked alive.

She wished she knew his name so she could call out to him. The fear from seeing him there made her lose control of the vehicle. It skidded to the left, the headlights illuminating the panic in his eyes, before she pumped the brakes and came to a screeching halt.

Cassie pushed the door open and placed one foot on the ground. Then the other. The world shifted under her feet, and she fell to her knees. Where were her parents? Where was her sister? She’d had so many questions. Now, her voice stuck in her throat.

The little boy shuffled toward her. He held Laura’s teddy bear as if it were his own. When he handed it over, Cassie received it with shaking hands.

“Do you remember that night?” he asked.

Her throat was dry, but she pushed a single word out of her mouth. “No.”

“Try to remember.” His voice was clear and desperate. He sounded like a grownup. It was the most she’d ever heard him speak. “Please try to remember.”

“Was it my fault?” It wasn’t the question Cassie had intended to ask, but this wasn’t the person she had expected to see either. “Did I kill Sarah?”

“They need you.” The little boy looked over his shoulder, then back at Cassie. His eyes were bright blue. She hadn’t noticed that before. “They need your help.”

“Who?” A shiver crawled down Cassie’s spine and settled in her stomach, where it writhed in anguish. “I don’t understand.”

The little boy placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. At his touch, a rush of pain radiated from his fingertips through her arm, joining the shiver in her gut. Together, they scratched and bit at her insides until she could hardly breathe. Each lightning bolt of agony came with a cloud of fear that settled over her like a nightmare. She felt figures gathering around her, but when she looked, the void stood empty except for her and the little boy.

She cried out, half in desperation, half in fear.

The boy removed his hand. The pain faded but didn’t disappear. It was a shadow of what it once was, and yet it was still unbearable. It kept her on her

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