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Presently, they were fixed on a pair of marble-like eyes peeking out from behind a shadowy tree limb.

Unease washed over the owl like frozen rain. Owls might not be the smartest of creatures, but any animal can sense when it is looking at something not entirely of this world. Or at least, not of the modern world.

Luckily, Gabriel mused as he mounted the steps to the front door, ordinary humans are much less intuitive.

For all Iris knew, he was a thirty-three-year-old bookseller and occasional home baker. Nothing more.

There was no reason for her to know about his past and how far back it stretched.

Or about the shadows that followed him still.

“Everything okay?” Iris hadn’t failed to notice the way Gabriel pushed his food around his plate, the worried crease between his brows. She leaned forward, elbows resting on the table. “Is something wrong at work?”

Gabriel glanced down at his phone, absently spearing a string bean with his fork. “No. Nothing like that.”

Iris watched him silently for a few moments, listening to the hooting of an owl just outside the window. She chewed thoughtfully. “You were late tonight.”

His eyebrows rose as he met her gaze. “So were you.”

The kettle began to whistle, clouds of vapor billowing up from the spout like a steam engine. Iris jumped up to pour their tea. “I was at my mom’s house, remember?”

“Ah, yes, the photo project.” Gabriel peered at the phone again. “How did that go?”

She set down two steaming mugs and resumed her chair, dragging it closer to the table. It let out a loud screech against the floorboards, making Iris wince. The floors had only been refinished six months ago, and she couldn’t afford to have them redone for several decades.

“It was fine. Are you expecting a call?” She hated the suspicious tone of her voice. They normally shared an easy camaraderie, but that night a strange secretive air curdled around Gabriel like spoiled milk. She couldn’t help but pry a little.

“Just waiting to hear back from Clement about something.”

Nausea settled in Iris’ stomach at the very sound of the name. Averting her gaze, she fished their tea bags out of each mug and set them on the edge of her plate.

Gabriel’s secretive mood continued as they finished up the dishes and settled onto the couch. Leaning to her left, Iris unlatched a trunk near the fireplace and extracted two thick wool blankets, along with their journals. Gabriel’s was worn red leather and featured a band with a keypad. Her own was light teal, imitation leather, unmarked and unlocked.

If only Gabriel’s expression were as readable as her journal.

“A funny thing happened at work today,” Iris began in a lighthearted tone.

Gabriel’s face was impassive as he cracked open his journal and fished a burgundy pen out of the vase on the coffee table. Another glance at his phone, now perched on the couch’s armrest.

Iris cleared her throat. “You know Lance, that kid I told you about who refuses to get braces?”

The pen clattered to the floor as Gabriel leapt from the couch. Before Iris could say a word, he had snatched up his phone and rounded the corner, leaving her staring mutely after him.

Barricading himself inside the guest room, Gabriel stared at the text.

Three words: I am aware.

He ran a heavy hand over his face, his mind spinning over the same unanswerable questions. How many? he wrote, holding his breath.

At first, there was nothing, then three dots danced across his screen. He held the phone tighter. The owl hooted again, this time sounding like it was just outside the window. Damned, irksome thing.

Finally, the phone gave its silent reply: Unsure.

Outside the locked room, Iris padded softly over to the door. More than two years as Gabriel’s friend had taught her that nothing good ever came from a scheme that involved Clement. She had never fully ascertained how Gabriel had met his old friend, only that they’d been confidants for most of their lives. It didn’t matter that the mere mention of Clement made Iris’ skin crawl; Gabriel wouldn’t hear a word against him.

She knocked lightly. “Gabriel, are you sure you’re alright?”

The door swung open at the same moment that Gabriel slid his phone into his pocket. An unconvincing smile was hoisted onto his face, as though a puppeteer had attached strings to his cheekbones. “Everything’s fine. You were saying…” He held out a hand, encouraging her to return to the living room.