Soft footsteps sounded behind me, and Claudia came to stand beside me. “Impressive, isn’t it?”

I shrugged.

“Let’s take a walk.”

She opened one of the balcony doors and stepped outside. I followed her as she strolled down a set of steps, across the lawn, and into the woods. I looked around, but I didn’t see anyone else.

“Where are the guards?”

“I sent them to the opposite side of the estate,” she replied. “I didn’t want them to see us.”

“Of course not,” I muttered.

Claudia gave a sideways glance, but said nothing else.

We followed a path through the woods for about a quarter of a mile before it opened up into a large clearing ringed by a wrought iron fence. Behind the fence, square blocks of black marble had been set into the grass.

No, not blocks, I realized—tombstones.

“A cemetery? Why did you bring me to a cemetery? Are you planning to bury me here?” I tried to make my voice light, as though it were a joke, even though I was afraid it wasn’t.

Claudia didn’t answer. Instead, she opened the gate and walked down the main row. I muttered under my breath, but I followed her.

I scanned the tombstones, many of which were shaped like crosses. Those on the left side of the graveyard bore the last name Sinclair, including one for Lawrence, Devon’s dad. So this was the Family cemetery. But then, I glanced over at the right side and noticed that the last names were all different. So the guards were buried here, too. One grave near the front was fresh enough to still be covered with sprays of wilting flowers—Ashley’s grave.

Claudia stopped by that grave a moment, bowing her head and silently paying her respects. So did I.

We walked on. As we moved deeper into the cemetery, another name appeared on the tombstones over and over again—Sterling.

Dread filled the pit of my stomach, and my legs felt as numb and heavy as they had last night after Grant had stabbed me. Suddenly, I knew exactly why Claudia had brought me here.

She walked almost to the back of the cemetery and stopped in front of one of the black marble markers. A star had been carved into the top of the tombstone, along with a few simple words underneath—Serena Sterling, beloved mother and friend, trusted member of the Sinclair Family.

My hand curled around my mom’s sword, my fingers clenched so tightly that I could feel my skin filling in the star carved into the hilt. My breath came in ragged gasps, and my heart twisted in my chest, so painfully that I felt like I was in the grip of one of the lochness’s tentacles, about to be pulled under and drowned by my own grief.

Claudia’s eyes met mine, a mixture of sorrow, pity, and understanding swirling through her green gaze.

“I brought you here, Lila,” she said, “because I thought you might like to finally see your mother’s grave.”

I drew in a breath, then another one . . . then another still . . . trying to get my emotions under control. Finally, when I felt calm enough, I dragged my gaze from the tombstone back to Claudia.

“So,” I said. “I guess the jig is up, huh?”

She arched an eyebrow, and I sighed.

She gestured to a black marble bench that had been set at the very back of the cemetery. “Let’s sit and talk.”

We both walked over and sat down on the bench. Despite the heat of the day, the stone was cool, thanks to the shadows that cloaked this part of the cemetery. Neither one of us spoke for several minutes, and the only sounds were the faint cries of the birds and the trolls in the trees and the rustle of the summer breeze through the thick branches.

“How long have you known?” I finally asked.

“That you were really Lila Sterling? Daughter of Serena Sterling, the woman who used to be one of my best friends?” Claudia asked.

I winced and nodded.

“I realized it when I watched you fight Felix and Devon. You moved and attacked just like she used to do. I had my suspicions then, and they were confirmed the second I realized you were wearing that.” Claudia reached over and tapped my sapphire ring. “Although I’ll admit that I should have known the moment Mo told me your name. Merriweather was—”

“My grandma’s maiden name. We stayed with her a lot when I was a kid.”

I thought I’d been so clever, hiding who I really was from Claudia, but she’d known all along. I wondered if that was the reason she’d forced me to become Devon’s bodyguard, so she could keep an eye on me. Probably.

Claudia was silent for a moment. “What did your mother tell you? About the Family? About . . . me?”

“Everything,” I said. “She never hid it from me. I knew that she used to be a member of the Sinclair Family, that the two of you were close, and that she left the Family because of some fight you two had right before I was born. She said the two of you didn’t speak much after that.”

“That sounds about right.”

I could have told her more, about everything my mom had done for the Family and all the bodies she’d helped Claudia bury—literally and otherwise—but I wanted to keep at least some of my secrets to myself.

“Where did you go?” she asked. “After your mother left the Family? What did the two of you do?”

I shrugged. “We moved around a lot during the fall and winter. Ashland, Bigtime, Cypress Mountain. We stayed lots of places. Mom hired herself out as a guard to rich families, helped folks deal with their monster problems, things like that. The same things she used to do for you. Sometimes, she was just a thief, stealing art, cars, jewelry, or whatever, through the connections and jobs that Mo sent her way.”