The morning passes quietly. Laundry. Garden. Playing with Elena and her rabbit. It's been two weeks since we heard about the car in the ravine, and nothing has happened. No police. No investigators. Maybe we really are safe.
I'm in the garden when I hear it. A car engine. Coming up our long driveway.
We never get visitors. Anyone coming here is coming deliberately.
"Elena," I call, trying to keep my voice steady. "Go inside, baby."
"But Mama—"
"Now, Elena."
She hears something in my tone and obeys, running into the house. It seems to be happening too much lately. I wipe my hands on my jeans and walk around to the front.
It’s an expensive looking black car with two men inside.
My heart pounds. It’s Draco's people. They’ve found us.
The car stops and the passenger door opens. A man steps out. Late forties, well-dressed, dark hair. He glances around the property with calculating eyes.
"Good afternoon, miss," he says with a polite nod. "I apologize for the intrusion. We're looking for someone and hoped you might be able to help."
"I don't think I can help you," I say carefully.
"Perhaps." He pulls a photograph from his jacket. "Have you seen this man?"
He holds it up and my heart skips a beat.
It's Lupo.
But not my Lupo. The handsome man in the photo is clean-shaven, hair styled short. Wearing an expensive suit and watch. Standing with other men in a photograph taken at a formal function.
He looks powerful. Dangerous. Sinister.
But unmistakably him.
"No," I say, slowly shaking my head. "I've never seen him. I don’t go to town often."
The man studies me for a long moment. "Are you certain? He might look different now. Longer hair, perhaps a beard."
"I haven't seen him."
"We're searching the area," he says. "Asking at all the farms, the villages. He was last seen several weeks ago on a road not far from here. He was badly injured. Someone might have helped him. Or taken him to a hospital."
Weeks ago. Exactly when I found Lupo.
"I'm sorry. I can't help you."
The man nods slowly. "If you do see him, or if you hear anything—" He pulls out a card with only a phone number on it. "Please call. There's a reward for information. My name is Ciro."
I don't take the card. "If it’s been that long, I’m sure I won't see him."
"Perhaps." He tucks the card back in his pocket. "We'll be in the area for a few days. Asking questions. We’re hoping someone will have seen him."
It's a warning. They're not giving up. They plan to stay until they find him.
"Good luck with your search," I say, my voice flat.
He gives me another long look, then gets back in the car. They drive away, dust rising behind them.
