The black car rolled to a stop in front of Damien’s father’s estate, a grand, sprawling house of glass and stone that always looked colder at night. The iron gates had opened for them without a word, and now the house loomed in silence, its tall windows catching the reflection of the headlights.

Damien got out first and opened the back door. Ava stepped out slowly, then turned to help June, who had fallen asleep or passed into an exhausted daze, her head against the window, makeup streaked and lips parted.

“June,” Ava whispered, brushing a lock of hair from her face. “We’re here.”

June stirred with a soft whimper,...