Chapter 122

• Penelope stood at the front entrance of the villa, her fingers tightening around the handle of her suitcase. The night air was cool against her skin, carrying the faint scent of the ocean.
• She let her eyes linger on the massive house one last time, committing every detail to memory.
• The grand structure, the large windows, the perfectly trimmed hedges—it had been her shelter, her prison, and, for a brief moment, her hope.