Looking back, I can’t believe I never figured any of this out. Liam used to sneak out all the time, even once we started moving. He’d get in huge fights with Mom and Dad about it. They said they didn’t want him hunting, but I always thought they meant animals.

I asked him about it once, and he’d looked sad when he told me, “I’d never hurt an innocent animal.”

It hadn’t made sense to me then, but now I think he was trying to tell me the truth in his own way.

I run my hands along the cold steering wheel, trying to find the places where my mother’s fingers wore off the varnish, staining it dark.

I want to understand why they didn’t tell me about all of this, but I don’t know how to. They lied to me my entire life, and in the end, that lie is what killed them. If only they’d asked the Ballinkays for help. We could have come to Ravenfall as a family.

But I know my parents. They would have wanted to handle it on their own. They wouldn’t have wanted to endanger anyone else, no matter what went down between them and the Ballinkays when they decided to leave the magical life behind.

Liam would know what happened. Liam always had answers. Only now he’s one of my largest questions.

“Hurry up and come back,” I whisper to the night. “Please.”

Chapter 11: Colin

I’m up before the sun and waiting in the backyard with Anna, my parents’ leather journal clutched in my hand.

The crisp autumn air is chilly but refreshing, and I breathe it in deep. The inn is quiet, the guests still asleep, and Anna has the day off from chores since it’s Saturday. The grass is dotted with fallen leaves, and I can hear Max pouncing from one to the other as Anna dares him to leap farther and farther. Her sweater today is burnt orange with two black crows and reads ATTEMPTED MURDER.

Something flutters in the wind, and I blink, startled. “Anna?”

“Mmm?”

“Is that a…hat on your chimney?”

She follows my gaze to where a 1900s-style fedora with a gold feather balances on the gray stones. Smoke puffs merrily from the chimney, making the feather flutter.

“Oh,” she says, clutching a half-empty mug of hot chocolate with pumpkin marshmallows to her chest. “The house likes them. I’m pretty sure Max owes it big-time for something, because he takes a different hat up there every day.”

I’d only been half listening when she talked about the hat shop downtown, but I remember her warning now not to put them on. Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get used to this place.

The kitchen door opens, and Elaine and Roy emerge with cups of steaming coffee. Both are practically walking zombies, with deep purple bags under their eyes.