Page 102 of The Glittering Edge

The word isn’t spoken out loud. It comes from inside Penny’s head.

Hello, the voice says again, it’s like a dozen voices all speaking at once.

The floor creaks again. Right next to her.

Penny slowly looks up.

Standing in front of her is something that can only be described as a shape. A form. There is something reminiscent of a head, and appendages that might be arms, but there are no features. It’s colorless, and it’s sucking in the light.Consumingthe light.

The Shadow is back. And this time, it’s not a dream.

Penny

PENNY DOESN’T THINK. SHE JUST OPENS HER MOUTH TO SCREAM.

The Shadow is faster than her. In a blink, its not-arm reaches for her. She feels nothing as its not-hand closes around her neck. Then her throat is constricted, and she’s gasping for air. She squeezes her eyes shut, hoping that when she opens them, the Shadow will be gone.

Instead, when she opens her eyes, she’s somewhere else entirely. She doesn’t know where until she looks out the window and sees the De Luca home across the street.

Penny is inside Meredith House.

Penny has never been inside Corey’s house, and for a moment, she stares at the elaborate front room. Most homes would have their living room here, but the Barrions have a library. The floor is pale, gleaming wood, and the bookshelves are painted peacock blue. There’s art on mismatched pedestals, and worn armchairs, and more books than would fit inside Penny’s entire house.

Penny isn’t alone. There’s a man. He’s sitting at a desk, writing something in a notebook.

Penny recognizes him from the photograph: It’s a young Charles Barrion.

Penny backs up against the wall, but he doesn’t react. Can he see her? He only looks up when there’s an agitated knock at the door.

“Come in,” he calls, but the door has already swung open, and Giovanni De Luca storms inside.

“Close it behind you,” Charles says.

Giovanni stops in his tracks. Each of his limbs is vibrating, like he’s about to throw himself across the room and tear Charles into pieces. Instead, he turns around and slams the door shut.

“Thank you,” Charles says, entirely unruffled.

“What thehellis wrong with you?” Giovanni growls.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“My wife is pregnant. Do you know what your visit did to her? She was a wreck when I got home.”

“All I wanted was to speak to you,” Charles says.

“And when she told you I wasn’t home, you threatened her.”

“I told her that it would be in her best interest to let me see you as soon as possible. You can’t blame me for thinking she was hiding you away. I know you’d rather avoid me.”

In response, Giovanni spits on the library floor.

Charles doesn’t seem bothered. He leans forward, steepling his fingers and staring at Giovanni intently. “I need your help.”

Giovanni seems caught off-guard. For a second, he forgets to look angry. “Has hell frozen over?”

“I’m not too proud to ask for it, even after everything we’ve been through.”

Giovanni’s frown deepens, but he doesn’t leave. There’s an uncertainty in his eyes. Almost a curiosity. “What kind of help?”

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