Sarah kept going straight, forcing herself not to react. She drove another fifty yards, then turned into a shallow pull-off screened by brush. They killed the engine. Silence flooded in. They sat there, listening to their own breathing, the tablet’s dot pulsing like a heartbeat.
Through gaps in the trees, they could see the end of the drive: a large villa tucked deep in the woods, dark windows, clean lines, too isolated to be accidental. The van sat in the gravel near the entrance as if it had all the time in the world. Eleanor’s voice came out raw. “He’s in there.” Sarah didn’t answer right away.