Brendan’s lips were pale, as was his entire appearance. And yet, every word sounded like a strike at an old bell. “I’ll see her even if it kills me!”

He rose to his feet and began to cough his lungs out. His body was careening with every step, but he gritted his teeth and marched toward the front door—and right into the snow.

“Stop it!” Madame Brighthall bellowed breathlessly. “How dare you blackmail your mother with your own life? What now? You’re gonna stand outside in the snow until you die unless I reveal her whereabouts? This is how you’re going to threaten your own mother?!”

A winter gale swooped through the landscape, kicking up a chaotic swirl of snow in front of Brendan as he stood by the door. Framed by the nipping white horizon and the unforgiving flurry, his back looked small and forlorn. “I’m not blackmailing you or anything, Mom. I just don’t want you to regret this even harder than I do.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If Deirdre dies, the young woman who’s been y