The first thing I heard was Adam’s deep breathing. He was sound asleep, lying on his side facing me. He was a respectable distance away, but his fingers rested on my bent knee.

When I moved, he squeezed my knee. I smiled, closed my eyes, and fell back to sleep.

“EXODUS 22:18!” I blurted, bolting up in bed.

Adam’s eyes snapped open.

“Exodus 2.2.: 18,” I repeated.

He closed his eyes. “If you’re spouting biblical references, I’m definitely dreaming.”

I jumped out of bed and yanked my nightstand drawer so hard it flew out, thumping onto my foot—phone book and all. I swore and limped around to the other nightstand. I found the Bible in that drawer and pulled it out.

“You aren’t actually going to read that, are you?” Adam said, one eye open. “If it bursts into flames, it’s not my fault.”

“Tiffany’s Bible was open to Exodus 22. I just realized why that’s familiar. It’s the one Bible verse I know. Exodus 22: I8.” I pointed to the verse. “Thou shalt not suffer a witch to live.”

“Shit.” Adam scrambled up. He read the verse, then swore again. “The Bible was open to that page?”

I nodded. “It can’t be a coincidence. Maybe it was suicide. She was up to something and was worried I was coming after her. That might have been her final message.”

“To who?”

“Me. She knew I was coming over.”

“And she knew no one else would hear the baby crying and get there first? She knew you’d break in if she missed her appointment? She knew you’d notice the Bible and realize which passage she meant?” He shook his head. “No, whoever killed her left that.”

“As a message?”

“Maybe.” He sat upright and pointed to the chair. “Hand me my laptop.”

I passed it over, then sat on the edge of the bed as he opened the database and started typing. When the chapter reference didn’t work, he tried the text itself.

“I’ve heard that verse,” he murmured as he kept looking.

“Yeah, it’s a famous one.”

“No, I mean—” He glanced up at me. “How do you know it? Your mother doesn’t strike me as the Bible study sort. Paige might respect all religious faiths, but that’s one passage she wouldn’t repeat. Was it the Coven? It sounds like something they’d use.”

“As a motto, no doubt. Proof that the world hates us and we have to hide. But I don’t remember hearing it there. I don’t remember where I heard it at all. But it stuck in the back of my mind.”

“Let me call my dad.” He grabbed his cell phone, then stopped. “No, last resort.”

His dad had a stroke a few months ago—Robert was in his seventies—and Adam hated bugging him with anything that wasn’t life or death.