Avery Samuels rested her forehead against the steering wheel and groaned.

It had been a hell of a day. A fifteen-year-old boy had come to school with a handgun. His actions had resulted in a campus lockdown, followed by an evacuation of students and staff. As the district psychologist, Avery was trained to handle intense situations, and to counsel students in the aftermath of traumatic events. She’d listened to frantic teens and parents while the young offender got dragged away in handcuffs. There would be more fallout tomorrow, but at least the incident hadn’t ended in bloodshed.

Trying to think positively, she gathered her belongings from the passenger seat. Rain pattered against the corrugated aluminum rooftop of the carport. It made a pleasant melody that neither lifted her spirits nor pummeled them further. Perhaps a cup of tea would do the trick. A cup of tea, some hot soup, cozy slippers. She felt a pang of sorrow for Smoke, who wouldn’t be there to greet her at the doorway. Her phone chimed inside her purse, reminding her of a text she’d ignored earlier. She’d been too busy to read it, much less respond. Retrieving the device, she checked the screen.

A man named Agent Diaz is on his way to see you. Please talk to him.

Avery frowned at the message from her aunt Ruth, who wasn’t really her aunt. She’d taken Avery in at thirteen and raised her like a daughter. They weren’t related by blood, but they were still close.

Avery put her phone back in her purse and exited the vehicle. She’d call Ruth as soon as she got out of the rain. She couldn’t imagine why Ruth wanted her to speak to an insurance agent—on a stormy evening, no less, after regular business hours. Avery didn’t like strangers coming to her home. Ruth knew that better than anyone.

Avery held her jacket over her head and made a mad dash from the carport to her upper-floor apartment. As she climbed the steps, she became aware of two figures on the landing. She didn’t see them until she’d almost reached her door. She’d been distracted by the challenge of navigating wet stairs in high heels, her vision obscured by rain, and the edges of her jacket. There also wasn’t much daylight left, at dusk.