(Author's POV)
She walked, quietly, down the back stairs.
She crossed the kitchen. She went into the foyer. She put on her coat. She picked up her keys.
She had her hand on the handle of the front door when the foyer light came on.
Stefan was sitting in the armchair beside the door.
He had been sitting there for hours, apparently. There was a glass of water on the side table next to him, and a book in his lap, closed, with his finger holding the place. He looked at her without surprise.
"Put it down," he said.
"Stefan-"
"Put the bag down, Sienna."
"I'm leaving. You said yourself I had to leave-"
"In the morning. With supervision. With an inventory. Not now, not with a bag full of items you do not own."
"They were given to me."
"Some of them. Not all. You know which ones." He st
