Addison had forgotten about the cornfield, about her vision, about all of it except what Sylvia wanted to talk about. Quinn didn’t understand it, but she’d watched it happen. And then she’d felt the moment Sylvia had tried to do the same to her. But it didn’t work. It only gave her a splitting headache.

She stumbled and caught herself on the banister.

Addison turned. “Are you all right?”

She shook her head. “All of a sudden I’m not feeling so well.”

Addison offered her a hand and helped her the rest of the way up the stairs. Sylvia watched the exchange between them, and Quinn did her best not to look terrified.

“What’s wrong?” Addison asked.

For once, Quinn was glad she had no aura. The last thing she wanted right now was for Addison to start asking questions. “I have a migraine coming on, I think.” She rubbed at the space between her eyebrows. “Maybe I had too much to drink. I should go before it gets worse.”

“You’re not coming with us?” Addison said.

Quinn didn’t want to leave her cousin alone with Sylvia, but Addison had made her plans clear.

“Would you like to lie down in one of my guest rooms?” Sylvia offered.

“Thanks,” Quinn said. “But one of my moms gets migraines like this, and it puts her out for a day or more. I’d rather drive home before that happens.”

Addison grabbed her into a hug, leaned in, and whispered in her ear. “Thanks for coming out here with me. I don’t think I could’ve done it alone.”

“That’s what family’s for.” Quinn squeezed her cousin’s shoulders, wishing she could pull her away from all this, but she knew how much Addison wanted to trust Sylvia—to find who she was as both a Haywood and a Bonner.

With what Sylvia had done in there, if Quinn came out against her now, she might lose Addison forever. So she headed outside and started for her car, slowly, keeping an eye on the house. As soon as Sylvia and Addison disappeared down the drive, she doubled back.

She reached the front door, took a quick look around, and ducked inside. Then she made her way down the hallway.

A woman in a branded polo stepped out of one of the rooms. Quinn stopped, eyes wide.

“Can I help you?” she asked. Quinn recognized her—they’d graduated the same year at Yarrow High. They hadn’t been close, but they’d been friendly.

“Alexis?” Quinn asked. “I didn’t realize you worked for the Bonners.”

“Quinn!” she said. “I took the job earlier this summer.” She lowered her voice. “I thought I’d be working the festival, but all I’ve been doing is running errands for Nate Bonner all day. What are you doing here?”