Right on cue, the doorbell echoes through the house.

“Who is that?” Lyric wonders as she gets out of bed and starts getting dressed.

I hold up my finger, indicating I’ll be right back then I step out into the hallway heading for the stairway. “They just rang the doorbell,” I tell Lila. “I’m headed down to tell them I’m okay. I’m really sorry I didn’t answer.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” Her tone carries an edge.

I pause. “Is everything okay?”

She hesitates before she utters, “Ayden, the police found your sister.”

A wave of fear and relief rushes through me. “They found her? Where was she? Is she okay?” I struggle to get air into my lungs.

They found her.

But where?

Is she hurt?

Is she . . .

“She’s alive,” Lila says. “I don’t know the exact condition she’s in, but you can meet me down at the hospital and we’ll find out what’s going on.”

“Did they arrest anyone?” I can barely hear over my deafening heartbeat. “Did they catch my father?”

“They said they made some arrests, but I don’t know all the details. When the detective called, he didn’t say much, but I’ll get more information from him when we get to the hospital.”

“I’ll head there right now.” I hang up and my legs buckle out from under me.

“Ayden.” Lyric appears beside me. Her eyes sweep across me, as if she’s checking for visible wounds. “What happened?”

“They found Sadie,” I manage to get out.

She kneels down on the floor in front of me, moving slowly, as if she’s approaching a skittish cat. “Is she . . . Alive?”

I nod and that’s when I lose it.

Sadie is alive.

Sadie is alive.

She made it.

She survived.

I start to cry and Lyric wraps her arms around me and rubs my back.

I cry even harder. For Sadie. For Felix. And for myself. Because for the first time in my life I don’t feel so weighed down.

I don’t want to think it, because it feels wrong to after spending so much time being chased by the Soulless Mileas, but maybe, just maybe this will finally all be over soon.

“LYRIC, WHY DON’T YOU HELP your dad in the kitchen while I finish saying goodbye to everyone,” my mom says to me as I pace the foyer in my house, biting my fingernails.

I distractedly look up at her. “Huh?”

She heaves a sigh as she approaches me. “Honey, I know you’re worried about Ayden, but wearing a hole through the floor isn’t going to help.”

“He said he’d text me and give me an update when he made it to the hospital.” I check my phone again and frown when I see I have zero new messages. I wish I could’ve gone with him, but my mom and Lila didn’t think that was a good idea since Ayden’s going to be talking with the police. “He left over an hour ago.” I tuck my phone away. “He has to be there by now.”

“Honey, I’m sure he’ll call you as soon as he can.” She puts her hands on my shoulders and steers me toward the kitchen. “Now go get your mind off of stuff and help your dad clean up.”

I begrudgingly go into the kitchen where my dad, Fiona, Everson, and Kale are cleaning up dirty dishes, food trays, and wine glasses left over from my mom’s guests. Uncle Ethan dropped the three of them off about twenty minutes ago and then headed straight for the hospital. He didn’t say much, but I could see the concern on his face when he mentioned needing to get an update on Sadie’s condition. I worry how hurt she is. How much they broke her. She’s been with them so long . . . God, it’s hard to think about the stuff she must have been through.

I begin wandering around the house, picking up stray cups and plates while my mom urges guests toward the front door, trying to get them to leave as quickly as possible without seeming like a total douchebag about it.

“How are you holding up after what happened?” my dad asks as I return to the kitchen with a stack of plates.

“Fine.” I set the plates down in the sink. “I’m just worried about Ayden and how he’s handling this.”

“I’m sure he’s fine.” He gives my shoulder a squeeze. “He’s a strong person.”

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” I think about all the obstacles Ayden has overcome in his life, including the one I just helped him with only hours ago when we were in his room.

“Why do you look flushed?” My dad questions, studying me closely.