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Fear surges through me as the masked figure breaks into a run, heading straight for the porch where I stand, frozen with indecision.

I don’t think, I move, leaping off the porch andrunning around the side of the house. My bare feet sink into the wet grass, slipping slightly as I sprint toward the garden.

Behind me, heavy footsteps are gaining ground. Whoever this is, they’re fast.

The maze. If I can reach the maze, I might lose them in its twisting paths. And the greenhouse is just beyond—if I can reach Damiano...

I change direction, heading for the maze entrance. My nightgown billows around my legs, the fog swirling with each step I take. My lungs burn with the exertion, my condition making itself known at the worst possible moment.

The whistle comes again, closer now. Three notes, but sharper, more urgent.

I reach the maze entrance and plunge into the darkness between the high hedges. Immediately, shadows so dense they feel solid swallow me. No moonlight penetrates here, and I have to run with my hands outstretched, feeling my way forward.

Left turn, right turn, straight ahead. I try to remember the path to the center, to where we buried Liam. From there, I know the way to the greenhouse, but in the darkness, with fear clouding my mind, every path looks the same.

My pursuer crashing through the hedge maze echoes behind me. He’s not bothering with the paths, simply pushing straight through the foliage, taking the most direct route.

I take another turn, then another, panic rising as I realize I’ve completely lost my bearings. Have I been here before? Are these the same hedges I just passed?

My foot catches on an exposed root, and I go down hard, my knees hitting gravel. Pain shoots up my legs, but I scramble back up, ignoring the sting. I can’t stop. Can’t let him catch me.

I take another turn and find myself in a small clearing. Moonlight breaks through the fog here, illuminating a stone bench. I’ve reached the center of the maze.

And buried beneath this peaceful scene lies Liam Bastian’s decomposing body.

For a sick moment, I wonder if it’s Viktor behind the mask. If he’s somehow figured it out, if this is his revenge.

I don’t have time to dwell on it. I need to get to the greenhouse, to Damiano.

I scan the clearing, trying to remember which path leads out toward the back of the property. There—that narrow opening between two particularly tall hedges. That’s the exit, the one that leads to the greenhouse.

I start toward it, but I’m too slow. The masked figure bursts into the clearing behind me, blocking my escape.

In the dim moonlight, I can finally see him clearly. Black hoodie pulled up over the stag mask, obscuring any identifying features. He standsperfectly still for a moment, breath coming in harsh gasps through the mask.

“Please,” I say, backing away slowly. “I didn’t put up that light. I’m not part of this.”

He tilts his head, studying me. Then he steps forward, reaching for me.

I turn to run, but a hand catches my arm, yanking me back with enough force to make me gasp. His grip is iron, fingers digging into my flesh.

“Let me go!” I thrash, trying to break free, but he only tightens his hold, pulling me against him.

His other hand moves toward my face. I flinch, expecting a blow, but instead, he traces a finger down my cheek, the touch almost gentle.

“Who are you?” I demand as I shake with fear and rage. “What do you want?”

The masked figure leans in close, his breath hot through the mask. And then he speaks, voice muffled but unmistakably familiar.

“You really should have stayed away from The Vault tonight, Briar Waters.”

My blood turns to ice.

This isn’t Damiano or Flint.

This isn’t a game.

And I’ve just been caught.