Layla takes a good look at the back of the guard’s head and runs her hand over it, presumably feeling for bumps that might have knocked him unconscious. “Nothing,” she says, and runs the candle over his back. She stops near his left shoulder blade.

“Huh,” she says, and we both look at her. “He’s got a tattoo, but there’s some bad scarring on top of it….”

I lean forward, getting a better look at the scar, and shudder. It appears to be from a burn.

“Can you tell what it was?” Ash asks.

Layla brings the candle near his skin and bends closer. For a few seconds she goes silent and concentrates, moving the candle around to get different angles.

Then she stands up and chews on her lower lip. “Go ahead and put him back,” she says, and I start lifting him before she finishes her sentence. We stand him upright and tuck him back into the metal box. Ash grabs the icebox door and latches it.

I wipe my now-wet fingers on my pants and wish I could run full-speed toward a shower. Not that there are any here. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning and ask Pippa to bring up hot water for a bath. I shake out my hands in front of me like somehow that makes a difference.

Layla’s eyes seem far away, locked in concentration.

“Lay?” Ash says. “You know I hate it when you leave me in suspense like this.”

But she doesn’t respond. She just starts to pace around the small room like she’s having a conversation with herself.

I can tell by Ash’s face that patience is not his strong suit. It actually makes me feel a little better, though, about all those times Layla has gone silent on me.

After what feels like forever, Layla stops and faces us. “What if we got it wrong?” she asks.

“Got what wrong?” Ash replies, exasperated.

“The guard,” she says, and waves her hand at the compartment where his body is. “What if when he told November ‘You’re next,’ it wasn’t a threat?”

I look at her sideways. “What are you saying?”

“What I’m saying is that he took a huge risk by speaking to you,” she says. “I told you at the time that guards never break that rule. So why would he threaten you verbally when there are so many nonverbal alternatives?”

“Layla, what kind of tattoo did he have?” Ash says.

But Layla only lifts her hand and silences her brother.

“Don’t forget that he reported me to Blackwood and Conner the night I found Stefano’s body,” I say.

“Right. And Conner told you that the guard went about his schedule differently that night, which we all agree is strange,” she says.

I stare at her, trying to follow her logic.

“Layla,” Ash says more insistently.

She doesn’t look at him but stays focused on me. “We already suspect that whoever killed Stefano was actually trying to kill Matteo and frame you, another Bear, for the crime—a perfect crime, since it would have eliminated two Bears at once.” She nods toward the freezer. “This guard had a Bear Family tattoo on him. He took a different route that night, sure, but somehow wound up at your room the same time you did. Then he gives you a message and winds up dead the same night, in front of your room.”