He glances at me. “This, Ravenlee, is a stipulation.”

“Am I in trouble?” I ask, glancing at the gate again. He only calls me Ravenlee when he’s mad at me or stressed out.

He shakes his head. “No, you’re not in trouble. If anything, I am.”

“Why?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know … It’s …” He offers me a smile. “You don’t need to worry about it. This is grown up stuff. All you need to worry about today is making sure that, if anything bad happens, you swing your fist like your life depends on it, got it?”

I nod, wanting to make him proud of me. “Got it.”

He starts to smile, but it fades when the gates start to open.

Sighing, he drives forward through the entrance and turns onto a paved driveway that leads to the biggest house I’ve ever seen.

“Whoa, who lives here?” I ask with my nose pressed against the window.

The house is so huge that it has three floors.

“A business acquaintance,” my dad replies as he pulls up to the front doors.

Two guys are standing on the front porch, and just behind them is a kid around my age with hair so blonde it nearly looks while. Even with how far away he is, I can tell he looks sad.

I turn to my dad. “Is that boy your business acquaintance?”

Shaking his head, he puts the shifter into park, turns off the engine, and then hesitantly reaches for the door. “No.”

He’s being really weird. It makes me worry, even though he said I don’t need to. I want to ask him questions, but he opens the door and climbs out.

I’m not sure if I’m supposed to follow him or if I should stay in the car.

“Come on, Ravenlee,” he says then closes the door.

He called me Ravenlee again.

Something’s wrong.

But I get out anyway, trusting my dad, and hurry around to the front of the car where he’s waiting for me. He takes my hand when I reach him then pulls me with him as he starts up the pathway toward the guys.

“You made it,” the taller one says to my dad. Then his gaze flits to me. “And you brought the little raven.”

My dad’s hold on my hand tightens. “I didn’t really have a choice, did I?”

The man stares at me for a beat with eyes a strange color of grey, like storm clouds, then he looks at my dad. “No, you didn’t.” Again, the man with stormy eyes glances at me.

He’s starting to make me feel really squirmy, so I look at the boy instead.

He looks even sadder up close, so I smile at him. And for a moment, he smiles back at me. But then his smile shifts to worry as the man with stormy grey eyes looks at him.

“Go and get the others,” he tells him.

The kid nods then looks at me for a fleeting moment before hurrying inside the house.