The rain had started again. A light, insidious rain, seeping into clothes as well as thoughts. Ellie Langden slowly closed the account book she'd been pretending to hold for the past ten minutes. Her eyes felt as if they were burning, not because of the numbers, but because of Sadie.

Sadie Cairncross had never believed their story. She had that piercing, cold gaze, as if she'd learned to sniff out lies in the slightest whisper. Ellie had met detectives, bankers, lawyers... but Sadie, with her soft voice and tight smile, was a different kind of girl. The kind who said nothing, but wrote everything down.

And now there was Ann Marie. Her daughter. Unstable, aggressive, jealous—a real powder keg. Ellie didn't like unnecessary conflict, but she knew how to recognize a threat disguised as domestic drama. Ann Marie didn't like newcomers. Even less so when one of them had Ellie's calm, menacing presence. Just that morning, Ann Marie had given Hannah a look so acid it could have dissolved the walls of the boarding house. Then she'd whispered something to Sadie, who'd simply nodded, lips pressed together.

They knew. Or at least, they suspected. Ellie felt it in her bones.

In the living room, Shoo was trying to tack pictures to the wall to "make it more welcoming," while Josie insisted on talking to Sadie, as if a smile and a little kindness could be enough to erase their pasts. Hannah, silent, etched plans into her head, always ready to flee if everything fell apart.

Ellie, on the other hand, was watching. She was listening. And above all, she was preparing. She hadn't come all this way to be fooled by a bitter old woman and an unbalanced daughter. But she also knew that villages, like prisons, had their own rules. And in Hope Springs, the enemy wasn't necessarily who you thought it was.

She took a deep breath and stood up, slowly smoothing down the skirt she was wearing. They would have to strike before they were struck. Or, better yet, lie.

And that, Ellie Langden knew very well.