Chapter 1 Ashgrove Morning

Natalie POV.

Ashgrove mornings smell like pine, coffee, and trouble.

Today, trouble got there first.

I cracked two eggs into the skillet and checked the window for the third time.

The tree line was dark and still. Too still. No birds. No wind. Just pines packed thick enough to hide anything.

"Amelia," I called. "Five minutes."

"I'm choosing my socks."

"You're stalling."

"Same thing."

I flipped the eggs. The kitchen was small and warm, steam fogging the glass. Coffee on the left. Amelia's vitamins by the sink. A knife taped under the counter.

That knife wasn't mine. It was already there when we moved in. I'd never asked who put it there. I'd never taken it down, either.

Amelia appeared in the doorway with one shoe on and her backpack hanging off one shoulder.

"Eggs," I said.

"I wanted pancakes."

"Pancakes are for people who wake up on time."

She huffed and climbed onto the chair. I set the plate in front of her and sat across the table with my coffee.

This was our rhythm. Coffee and eggs. Shoes and backpacks. Small rules that kept the day from falling apart.

"Did you sleep?" she asked.

"Some."

"You checked the door twice last night."

I looked at her.

She shrugged. "I heard you."

She was five. She shouldn't notice things like that. But she did.

She'd been noticing since the day she was born. The first time I held her, she stared up at me with those dark eyes and I swear she already knew more than she should.

I checked the lock on the front door twice before bed. I checked it again when I got up to get water. I checked it once more before the sun rose. Amelia heard all three.

"You don't have to check," she said.

"Yes I do."

"Why?"

"Because I love you."

"That doesn't answer the question."

"It answers it enough."

She gave me a look that said she didn't believe me. Then she ate her eggs.

Two women crossed the path with laundry baskets. A guard leaned against the eastern fence, watching the tree line like he expected it to move.

Mrs. Danner stepped out of her house, saw me in the window—

and went back inside.

Third time this week.

I told myself it was nothing. Ashgrove was small. People stared. The pack had rules about who belonged and who didn't, and I'd never quite fit either box.

But that look wasn't gossip.

It was fear.

The guard turned his head and looked at our house. Not at the yard. Not at the window. At the house. At the exact wall where the safe-room door was on the other side.

I stepped back from the window.

My hands were steady. My pulse wasn't.

"Nat."

Amelia's voice snapped from the hallway.

I was moving before my brain caught up.

She stood in front of the safe-room door.

The closet that wasn't a closet.

Same paint. Same brass knob. Same innocent little rectangle cut into the wall.

Only the frame was too thick. The air around it too cold.

"It's open," she whispered.

My stomach dropped.

The door was cracked—half an inch. Just enough to show black inside.

"Did you open it?" I asked.

"No."

I always kept it locked. Always.

I reached out.

The knob was cool. Not from morning shade—cold like it had been held too long.

I pulled it shut. The latch clicked.

I checked it again.

It held.

I made Amelia stand behind me while I looked at the frame. No scratches. No pry marks. No sign of force.

Someone had opened it with a key. Or with the code. Or they'd been inside the house long enough to learn the latch the way I had.

I didn't know which answer scared me more.

"Go get your bag," I said.

"Why?"

"We're leaving early."

"Where are we going?"

"Just get your bag."

She stared at me a beat too long.

Then she ran.

I checked the lock again.

Then the back door.

Then the front.

Everything was fine.

That was the problem.

The doors were locked. The windows were closed. The house looked exactly the way I'd left it.

But someone had been inside the safe room.

And they wanted me to know.

I grabbed Amelia's inhaler off the counter. Her jacket off the hook. My keys off the table. I didn't pack. I didn't plan. I just moved.

The alarm hit before I reached the kitchen.

A shriek of metal that tore through the house like a blade.

Amelia screamed.

I ran.

End of Chapter One