At the time Dave and his two wives had just arrived at the cracked, empty road leading to Eric's aunt's house, a pair of observant eyes watched them from the shadow of a rusted, half-destroyed car.
Crouched low inside the vehicle, a girl clutched a slightly crumpled sketch in her hands. It was pencil-drawn, rough but clear enough to depict three faces: one man with intense, unreadable eyes and two striking women beside him, each exuding a presence that couldn't be mistaken for ordinary. The drawing and description matched the trio before her exactly.
Her breath caught in her throat. It's them.
She'd been told they'd come, she was told to wait patiently, to hide until the moment came. And the instructions had been simple: If you see a man accompanied by two women, make contact. Do not miss the opportunity.
