Andrew Kane strode across the living room. Within seconds, he’d passed through the entryway to the kitchen. All the lights were out in the house, and when he flipped the switch in the kitchen, nothing happened.

Lily had removed the bulb.

“The light went out,” Lily said, as her father flipped the switch again. There was a window over the sink, cracked just enough, and Jack could hear the conversation perfectly. “I didn’t know where you kept the bulbs, so I figured I’d wait until you got home.”

He turned to her, slowly. Could he tell something was wrong? She was sitting at the kitchen table at a quarter after four, caressing the petals of a rose. That rose was pink. She’d stolen it from the gardens in the center of town, because white roses reminded her of her mother, and red ones reminded Raven of his.

They lived in a town of roses and ghosts.

“I’ve been thinking,” Andrew said, reaching across the table to take her hand. His fingers came close to the thorns of the rose, but no skin was broken in that moment. No blood was spilled. “After the trial is over, and the dust settles, how would you feel about getting a fresh start somewhere else? I have a lead on a job in Wood Haven—”

“You want us to move?”

He nodded, his eyes narrowing against the darkness. The sun would rise in two hours’ time, and they needed that rose to scratch him before the world was filled with light. It was the only way to ensure that the neighbors didn’t see what they were doing.

When Lily tilted her palm upward, Jack held his breath. Any second now. The slightest movement, and the thorns would kiss Andrew Kane’s skin.

“Lil, you don’t want to stay in town,” her dad told her, his voice soft in the dark room. “Everywhere you look, you’ll see reminders of your mom.”

“You want us to run.” This time it wasn’t a question. Lily’s voice was hard, and her gaze was too. Jack could see her through the opening in the window. “You sounded so believable, the day the police came knocking at our door. I honestly thought you were covering for me.”

“I…” Andrew ran his hands through his messy brown hair, and Jack saw that only half of his face had been shaved. Clearly, he hadn’t been sleeping since the murder. Unfortunately, things were only going to get worse from here. Sleeping in a quiet house might’ve been difficult, but that was nothing compared to curling up on a cot in a cramped cell.