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Absolutely not.

Never again.

I laughed as the car disappeared down the road, the taillights fading into the distance.

Yeah… I doubt we’d be seeing Father Maxwell again anytime soon.

I stood there for a moment longer, watching the empty road, feeling the cool evening air that I couldn’t actually feel but somehow still registered. The sky was darkening, stars starting to appear overhead.

Then I turned and walked back toward the house.

Back to Lakelyn.

Back to my family.

Back to the only place that mattered.

Chapter twenty-one

Lakelyn

Willow frowned as Father Maxwell’s car sped out of the driveway with considerably more urgency than it had arrived.

“For somebody who just said this house was perfectly fine, Father Maxwell sure is leaving like Jesus texted him an emergency.”

I watched the taillights disappear through the gates, unable to shake the feeling that there had been more going on with him than he let on. Father Maxwell had been tense from the moment he stepped inside, distracted in a way that didn’t match the calm answers he gave us. Every now and then I caught him looking toward empty spaces in the house like he was seeing something the rest of us couldn’t.

Maybe he had sensed more than he was willing to say.

Maybe that was why he had gotten out of there so damn fast.

Still, he had looked me in the face and told me there was nothing evil in the house, so whatever presence he felt, he believed it was protective, not harmful.

For the first time in weeks, I decided to let that be enough.

If Father Maxwell said we were safe, I had to believe him… at least until the house gave me a reason not to.

⸺⸺⸺⸺

The following morning, I called the bank before I had even finished my first cup of coffee. After verifying my identity and explaining for what felt like the tenth time that, yes, I was calling about the ninety million dollars sitting in my checking account, I was transferred to a manager.

“Ms. Monroe, because of the amount involved, the transaction was automatically flagged for review when it posted to your account over the weekend. Our fraud and compliance departments had already begun reviewing it before your call this morning.”

“And?”

“Everything we’ve reviewed so far checks out. The funds came from a legitimate account belonging to Caspian Black, the account had sufficient funds to cover the transfer, and there is currently no fraud report, hold, recall request, or dispute attached to it.”

I rubbed my forehead. “So somebody really sent me ninety million dollars overnight?”

“That is what our records indicate.”

Jesus.

“Do you know who actually authorized it?”

“I’m afraid I can’t disclose information regarding the activity or authorized parties on an account that does not belong to you. I can only confirm what was sent to your account.”

She paused before asking, “Do you know Mr. Black?”