Abella loved this about Jasper: his thoughtful nature, his devotion to his grandmother. He was everything Flynn wasn’t. “Sounds like fun,” she said.

“We’ll need a fourth.”

“Ned?”

“Definitely. Will you track him down? He’s probably up in Flynn’s room. With everything going on between them right now, my bet is he’s keeping a low profile. He doesn’t want to stir shit up with everyone around.”

Abella felt a twinge of pity for Ned then. She knew he and Flynn were having problems; Ned often talked to her about them, and the anecdotes he shared were almost always negative. After hearing Jasper’s story, Abella told herself she’d be both more attentive and more supportive of her friend. Why Ned was still wasting his time on a man like Flynn, she had no idea.

She set off to find him, but Ned wasn’t upstairs, or anywhere else Abella searched on the second floor. After Abella met Jasper and Flynn’s sister, Bebe, earlier, Bebe had announced she was going to her room to take a nap. Through Jade’s door Abella could hear the girl talking to her father. With Camilla on the third floor, Flynn working downstairs, and Norton still at the market, the rest of the house was quiet. Where could Ned be?

Wandering the Sinclairs’ home alone felt like an invasion of their privacy, but Jasper had asked Abella to find Ned, and she intended to do it. Back on the main floor she checked the kitchen. A full wall of windows framed river and sky, and the white cabinets and marble counters were bathed in a ghostly, colorless light. There was a door nearby that concealed stairs to the cellar, but it seemed unlikely Ned would be down there. On the far side of the kitchen she found a mudroom that led outside. Abella could see a shed, the outbuilding teetering on the edge of a high cliff about fifty yards from the house.

Based on its size and shape, she imagined the shed was used to shelter lawn-care equipment, possibly firewood. It was a miniature version of the house, with the same siding and custom windows. Through one of these windows she caught a flicker of movement. A dark shape shifting behind the glass.

A smattering of raindrops hit the door, and Abella shivered. Without Norton around to make a fire, the house was freezing. It seemed possible Ned could have gone to the shed to get wood. She peered through the glass. She wasn’t mistaken. Someone was out there. Inside that shed.

She turned the handle and a gust of cold wind slapped her in the face. A dozen oilskin jackets and raincoats pressed in on her from both sides of the mudroom. She chose a long slicker from a hook at random and buttoned it over her clothes. Abella mentioned she’d spent an hour straightening her hair that morning, and she wasn’t about to let the rain ruin it now. Pulling on the hood, she stepped out of the house and began to traverse the yard.