Millie’s panting filled the silence. Elena’s mouth stretched in a joker-like grin, all teeth and no lips, and something that sounded like a snort of amusement rustled the air between us.

She raised her finger and pointed it at Millie’s forehead, and just when I thought she was about to poke her eye out, she said, ‘You, I like much more than her. You, I believe.’

I watched in silent shock as Elena disappeared into the sitting room, her dress cascading behind her.

‘Holy crap,’ breathed Millie. ‘Holy crap, she’s scary.’

‘Yeah,’ I said, incredulity mixing with fierce gratitude for my best friend. ‘And you managed to disarm her.’

Inside, the Falcones spoke in tones that rose higher and higher.

Elena: ‘Felice has returned.’

Nic: ‘I can do it.’

Luca: ‘No.’

Valentino: ‘It’s not about doing the right thing. It’s about doing the intelligent thing.’

Elena: ‘They’ve broken the truce.’

Valentino: ‘It’s my decision.’

Luca: ‘Don’t worsen the situation, Valentino.’

Valentino: ‘We need to show solidarity in this.’

The conversation dipped to low Italian murmurs.

After a while, Elena left the room with CJ in tow. Her arm was resting along his shoulder, pulling him against her as she strode along the hallway. Luca and Nic emerged next, ashen-faced. Something was definitely wrong. Even more wrong than it already had been.

Luca walked ahead of us. ‘Follow me. You can shower and get cleaned up in here.’

He led us into a bathroom halfway down the corridor. It had a gigantic marble-fitted bathtub and gold faucets. The business of killing really was so lucrative. Nic disappeared into a different room.

‘Where did your mother go with CJ?’ I asked Luca.

He opened a cupboard and dropped two bath towels on to the countertop by the sink. ‘Shower quickly, get dressed and then we’ll take you home. The sooner the better.’

‘Why?’ asked Millie, getting in on the suspicion. ‘What’s happening?

Nic returned with a pile of clothes. He dropped them at our feet. ‘These belong to our cousins. Some of it should fit.’

They shared a glance as they shut the door behind them. Millie and I pressed our ears against it but we couldn’t hear anything. The wood was too thick.

‘What’s happening?’ she asked. ‘Are we in trouble?’

I pressed harder, until it hurt my ear. ‘I don’t know.’

She took out her phone. ‘Should we call the police?’

‘And say what?’ I looked down at my bloodied self. ‘I’d be implicated, Mil. We both would. My mom wouldn’t be able to handle it. It would destroy her. We barely made it through the warehouse.’

‘But we’d be safe,’ she said in a quiet voice. ‘Wouldn’t we?’

‘You mean if we brought a patrol of police cars to the Falcone compound …?’ I trailed off.

‘Right,’ she muttered in agreement. ‘I wonder how long that would last.’

We showered quickly, first Millie then me. We towel-dried our hair and got dressed. I squeezed into a pair of black jeans and a T-shirt that was a size too small for me. The tennis shoes were too small, too, but I crammed my feet into them until the ends of my toes curled and chafed.

We unlocked the door and emerged to the distant sound of screaming.

Luca was sitting on the ground, his knees pulled up against his chest. He shot to his feet. ‘Are you ready?’ Clipped tone, shoulders tense.

‘What the hell is going on?’

‘Don’t worry about it.’ He slipped behind us and ushered us downstairs, his hand against my back, pushing, insistent, as we descended the marble stairs. Nic was lingering by the open door, his gaze flickering back and forth to the other end of the foyer. Luca guided us towards the entrance and the darkness beyond it. We were being herded.

Another shriek reverberated in the air. It was louder down here – it was coming from somewhere at the back of the house. It had to be Sara, but it all felt so devastatingly familiar, like I was listening to a distant memory of myself, screaming just as she was, begging for my life.

What Sara said at Eden was right. She was me, and not in a good way.

I rounded on the Falcones. ‘So this is what you do? You bring defenceless girls here and torture them?’

I moved backwards, towards the screams, but Nic pulled me into him, clamping me to his side. ‘Sophie, don’t,’ he urged, keeping his voice low. ‘We’re taking you home.’

Millie tugged at my arm. ‘Can we just go home, Sophie?’ She was crying again, the last dregs of her mascara smudging beneath her eyes. God, she was ruined, and it was my fault. She wouldn’t sleep again for a long time. But how could she walk away so easily? How could she stomach the guilt of leaving someone behind like that? She didn’t know what was happening. She didn’t know what was in store for Sara. But I did. Sara didn’t deserve this. She was good.

‘We can’t just leave her here!’ My teeth were chattering again. When did it get so cold? The dampness in my hair was chilling me.

Luca was stony-faced, but his jaw was tight. Nic was calm, feet planted firmly beside me, ready for the exit strategy, ready to deposit the potential snitches far away from the crime currently taking place.

Another ear-splitting shriek rang out.