Smoothing my hands down the front of my blazer, I pull in a deep breath and glance around the room. I quickly give up hope on finding a portal back to my house or an excuse so that I can abandon my mom and leave without having to go downstairs and face whatever the hell is happening down there. My eyes snag on the pictures on the wallpaper. Stepping closer, I lift my hand and trail my fingers across the images. It’s a tiny pale-brown bird—a starling in a beautiful, ornate gold cage.

A shudder runs through me. It’s a coincidence, it has to be, but the imagery still disturbs me. He calls me little bird. He says I’m his. He said he wanted me in his house and here I am, in his home, in a room with caged birds all over the walls.

I need to leave. The best thing I can do is to go downstairs, find my mom and get us out of here as quickly as possible, then do whatever I have to do to avoid Bastian until he forgets all about me.

Nodding to myself, I slide my feet into my shoes, remake the bed, pick up my bags and unlock the bedroom door. Pushing it open, I step into a hallway and glance from left to right. To the left, there’re two doors, one on either side of the hall, to the right, two more doors. Stepping cautiously out, I strain, listening for some clue that might guide me to my mom, but the house is silent.

Cautiously, I walk to the right and find myself at the top of a movieworthy double staircase that curves around, ending in a marble foyer at its base. My steps sound loud once I descend, but I’m still none the wiser as to where I need to go.

“Starling, sweetheart,” a female voice calls, and I turn to find a beautiful woman striding toward me. She’s dressed casually, in jeans and a sweater, but everything about her screams money, from the diamond earrings in her ears to the way her hair sits just so, the natural-blonde color accentuated with artfully applied highlights.

“Hi,” I wave awkwardly.

“How are you feeling? You shouldn’t have carried those bags down, one of the boys would have gotten them for you. You must be starving, let’s get you something to eat.”

“Er,” I mumble.

“Oh, where are my manners,” she laughs. “I’m Miranda, Bastian’s mom.”

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Lockwood, I wasn’t sure…” I trail off, not sure what to say. “I’m so sorry we’ve invaded your home, which is beautiful by the way. Sebastian should have taken me home.”

“Nonsense,” she chides, dropping her arm around me affectionately. “He did the absolute right thing bringing you here. Dr. Harris was on a call just a few houses down and he rushed right over to check you last night, if he’d have taken you home you’d have had to go to the ER. Drop your bags and let’s get you something to eat. Chef made croissants this morning and they’re to die for.”