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Past that—dark grass.

Fence. Trees. Woods.

My phone kept screaming. Not from the patio.

Not from the pool.

Farther. Behind it.

Somewhere near the back edge of the property.

A floodlight snapped on next door. Then another.

The Bishop house came alive.

Of course it did.

Dad swore quietly.

A door opened across the yard.

Riot came out first. Chief was right behind him.

“Riot,” Dad called across the yard. “House is clear, but something’s off.”

Riot was already coming down the steps. “What?”

“Hazel woke up screaming. Says somebody was in her room. Now her phone’s out here somewhere.”

Riot wore nothing but boxers. Three of his shirtless sons followed him, almost comically mirroring him—his clones.

I felt Chief’s eyes on me, even at that distance with all that darkness between us.

I couldn’t quite make out who the other two brothers were, but I could have guessed.

Every one of them held a gun, and in a way that pointed to comfort and training with the weapons.

As I had the thought, Marion came out in a silk nightie, tiny and blond, a gun steady in one hand. The contrast should have looked ridiculous. It didn’t.

“You okay over there?” she called out in her soft, sweet voice.

Two more brothers towered directly behind her. We’d gotten the whole Bishop family.

Dad looked at me before answering Marion. “We’re still figuring it out.”

The phone shrieked again from the dark.

Chief’s eyes found me. Of course they did.

I looked away.

Riot’s face had gone thoughtful. “How the hell did it get out there?”

“Still working on that,” Dad said, already starting across the grass.

Riot went with him.

Chief followed. So did Clayton.