I stormed back into the house, still seething. My hands were shaking part rage, part cold, part…okay, 99% rage.

That’s when I saw it.

Wet footprints.

I’d just seen wet footprints trailing from the pool to the hallway like something out of a murder documentary. And where did they lead?

To Vivian.

I followed, my breath shallow, heart hammering louder with each step. The trail ended at one of the guest rooms. I didn’t hesitate. I pushed the door open just as Vivian stepped out, eyes wide, lips parted.

Dripping hair, damp hem, trying to glide out of one of the guest rooms like she hadn’t just time-traveled out of...