ELLA

“I hate his guts,” Lyla said as he left the room. I ran to the door and opened it to see if he was within earshot, but he had already bundled down the stairs in a hurry.

I heard him say something in response to a question, then the door opened and gently closed. The house grew eerily quiet again and, for a moment, I wondered where everyone was.

I had grown so accustomed to feet running up and down the hallway and people chattering throughout the building that the silence I had experienced these last few hours felt like an indication of something ominous happening.

“That makes two...