Page 118 of He Sees You

From his latest kill, he tells me—a buck he took down three days ago, before our world exploded with my father’s secrets.

The meat is tender, gamey, real in a way store-bought never is.

We're eating something he killed with his own hands, just like on our wedding night, we'll celebrate with blood on ours.

"Tell me about the first time," I say suddenly. "Not your parents. The first intentional hunt."

Cain sets down his spoon, considers. "Webb. Four and a half years ago."

"The dealer Sterling wanted gone."

"I didn't know that then. I just knew he was selling to high school kids. Three had overdosed, one died—a fifteen-year-old named Katie Marsh. I went to her funeral, saw her parents destroyed. Her little brother asked why Katie wouldn't wake up."

"So you decided Webb needed to die."

"I decided he needed to fall off a cliff. Nature is dangerous in these mountains. People disappear all the time." He takes a sip of wine, remembering. "I watched him for two weeks, learned his routine. He hiked the same trail every Sunday, always alone, always high. It was almost too easy."

"Did you push him?"

"Didn't have to. I damaged the trail barrier, weakened the soil at the edge. When he leaned against it to catch his breath, it gave way. Gravity did the rest."

"But you arranged his bones."

"After. I climbed down, found his body, and... adjusted things. A message, though I didn't know who I was sending it to then."

"You were sending it to yourself. Announcing what you'd become."

"Maybe. Or maybe I was sending it to Sterling, letting him know someone else was hunting in his territory."

A car door slams outside.

Then another.

Juliette did indeed bring someone.

"Were you expecting—" I start, but Cain is already moving, hand going to the knife at his belt.

The door opens without a knock.

Juliette enters first, dragging a massive garment bag.

Behind her is a woman I don't recognize—mid-twenties, Asian features, eyes that have seen too much.

"Celeste, Cain," Juliette says, setting down the garment bag. "This is Thalia Kim. She's one of Morrison's survivors, one who escaped."

The woman—Thalia—won't look at Cain directly.

She focuses on me instead.

"Ms. Lockwood said you're planning something. About the Christmas Eve shipment."

My blood chills. "Juliette, what did you?—"

"Thalia escaped three years ago. She's been working with an underground network to help other girls get out. When I told her about Christmas Eve, she insisted on coming."

"You told a stranger about?—"

"I told asurvivorabout a chance to save twelve girls," Juliette interrupts. "Thalia has resources. Safe houses. People who can help the girls disappear after you intercept them."