Sydney

Mom watches me come back downstairs like she hasn’t moved from the steps in the grand foyer in the hour I’ve been in the orrery. The castle is quiet, but several eyes watch my progress in total silence.

Mom’s housekeeper whispers something to a maid, who scurries away into the dark recesses of the castle.

My mom grabs my arm as I pass her. I halt midstep. “What’s wrong?” she asks.

I shake my head, unable to find the words I need to convey the situation I’m in, that Sarah’s in. When I don’t say anything, she asks, “Did something happen?”

“I have it handled.”

“Can you tell me–”...