The moment their footsteps faded down the hallway and the low murmur of voices shifted toward her father’s office, Iva moved.
Her body reacted before her mind could fully catch up, muscles tight, breath shallow, every nerve screaming that she had only seconds. She slipped away from the pantry like a shadow, careful not to let the floor creak beneath her feet, and hurried up the stairs, her heart pounding so hard she was sure the entire house could hear it.
Once inside her room, she shut the door softly—too softly, as if any louder sound might betray her—and then locked it.
The click of the lock echoed in the silence.
Only then did her strength give way.
Her back slid down the door until she was sitting on the floor, knees pulled to her chest, hands shaking uncontrollably. Her stomach
