Chapter 1

I should have known something was wrong the moment May went quiet.

But at the time, I was too busy worrying about everything else.

Daniel had been a nervous wreck for three days straight. His boss, Richard Hale, was turning fifty, and the party was the kind of event employees didn't skip.

"Please just keep May close," Daniel said for the tenth time as we pulled up to the house. "Tonight matters. A promotion could come out of this. I need everything to go smoothly."

I nodded, even though keeping a four-year-old close at a party was like trying to hold water in my hands.

The mansion was the kind of place people slowed down to look at. Massive white columns. Valets at the door. A backyard strung with so many lights it looked like the sky had fallen into the garden.

I felt underdressed the second I stepped out of the car.

Inside, men in expensive suits circled with whiskey glasses. Women in silk dresses kissed the air beside each other's cheeks by the pool. Daniel laughed too loud at everything Richard said. I spent the first hour chasing May away from things she could break.

By eight o'clock, I was exhausted.

I found her crouched behind the dessert table, both hands covered in chocolate frosting, a guilty smile on her face.

"May," I said, kneeling down. "What did I say about the desserts?"

She held up her sticky fingers like trophies. "I was just tasting."

I sighed and pulled a napkin from my pocket. I started wiping her hands, one finger at a time, when two shadows fell over us.

Richard Hale. And his wife, Vanessa.

Vanessa was tall and thin and beautiful in a cold, untouchable way. She wore a red dress that probably cost more than my car. She looked at May the way you'd look at a stain on the carpet.

Then May looked up.

Her eyes went wide. She smiled. And before I could grab her wrist, she pointed straight at Vanessa.

"Mommy," she said, loud enough for the whole table to hear, "that's the woman who bites."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. It sounded like the most ridiculous thing a four-year-old could possibly say.

But Richard didn't laugh.

He stopped mid-step. Slowly, he turned. He looked down at May with an expression I couldn't read at first. Not anger. Something closer to fear.

"What did you say, sweetheart?" Richard asked. His voice was too gentle, too careful.

I laughed again, nervous this time. "She's four. She makes things up. I'm so sorry, Vanessa, honestly—"

"The woman who bites?" Richard repeated. He crouched down to May's level. "May, why do you call her that?"

I wanted to scoop her up and run. Every instinct in my body was screaming that something was very, very wrong.

But May just smiled, proud of herself for being the center of attention.

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