I looked about me as the women came to a stop. We had been climbing this whole time, and now I glanced back over my shoulder to see the dark, shadowy expanse of the forest at the foot of the hill. Off in the distance beyond, the bright lights of downtown shone blue and orange in the night.

We had stopped in front of a tall gate, no different from the others in this upmarket suburban estate. A long drive of white crushed white stone wound away behind the gate through rough lawns and up to a big white mansion beyond. The whole grounds were surrounded by a 15 foot high wall of white stone.

“That’s the mansion?” I asked.

“That’s it.” Belinda took a plastic ID card from her wallet and swiped it through the reader mounted on the high white wall by the gate. “Our beautiful home.”

The gate slid open to admit us, then clanged shut behind us once we’d entered. My feet crunched on the white stone of the drive as we walked toward the mansion.

The grounds were massive, but they seemed somehow out of sync with the rest of the suburb. They were less well-kept, for one thing. Hedges and bushes bristled with unruly growth, as if they hadn’t been trimmed this year. The grass of the lawns was ankle deep, and weeds grew up through the crushed white stone that made the drive.

“Seems a bit… wild,” I commented as we made our way past a fallen tree limb that lay half on the drive and half off it.

“I’m afraid Kyrine isn’t that interested in gardening or exterior aesthetics,” Belinda said dryly.

Astrid nodded and rolled her eyes. “She likes to focus more inwardly.”

“Huh…” I said, wondering what the hell she meant. I nearly asked why they didn’t just hire a gardener or a team of groundsmen to do the work, but then I bit my tongue. I’d had just about enough of their cryptic answers for the moment.

After walking up the drive for a good few minutes, we found ourselves standing in front of the mansion. I looked up, taking it all in.

The mansion wouldn’t have looked out of place in Beverly Hills, were it not for its lack of upkeep. It was painted white with bluestone rooftops. Glass window panes went from the bottom floor to the top floor. Out front, a staircase ascended to an entrance porch held up by corinthian pillars.

Despite its imposing size and impressive architecture, it looked—like the grounds—disheveled and uncared for. The white stone was grubby and streaked with black dirt, like soot. The windows, on closer inspection, were filthy, and high up on the left hand side, one of the upper storey windows was actually broken.