Even though it was almost midnight, the party was still going strong, and my mom was right in the thick of things, moving from one group of guests to the next, smiling, laughing, and shaking everyone’s hand. After that tense meeting in her office, Mom had come up to the family room to help Bria and me decorate our Christmas tree, although she’d brushed off all my questions about Hugh and Deirdre and what they wanted her to do. Instead, Mom had pretended like everything was fine, just like she was doing right now, by mingling with all her guests.

   I was supposed to be in bed, but I couldn’t sleep, so I’d slipped out here to watch the action. But that had been twenty minutes ago, and I was getting bored. So I moved away from the balcony and went over to the Christmas tree in the corner of the family room, the one that my sisters and I had decorated earlier today. Well, mostly decorated. Several snow globes and other ornaments were still strewn across the floor, waiting to be hung. But the tree was plenty decorated enough for me.

   I lay down underneath the Christmas tree and scooted over to the far corner, lying on my back and peering up through the branches at all the ornaments, lights, and tinsel above. This was one of my favorite things to do every single year. Normally, I would do it on Christmas morning when we were all gathered around the tree and had finished opening our presents, but Annabella had made fun of me last year, saying that only a little kid would crawl behind the tree. So I’d just go ahead and do it now, when she wasn’t around to tease me.

   I didn’t know how long I lay there, staring up at the lights and the soft glimmers of glass, but I must have dozed off because the next thing I knew, the mansion was silent. The talking, the laughing, the carols. All the noise from the party had vanished. Everyone must have gone home while I was sleeping.

   I rubbed the sand out of my eyes and sat up. At least, I started to, but then I remembered where I was and ducked back down at the last second. I just managed to avoid upending the Christmas tree and knocking the whole thing down. That would have been a disaster, especially with all my mom’s snow globes on it. No doubt I would have broken every single one.

   As I started to crawl out from behind the tree, the creak of the stairs made me stop. That was probably Mom, coming to turn off the holiday lights. So I stayed where I was, hoping that she would just walk down the hallway and not actually open our doors and look inside to make sure that we were in bed.

   I hunkered down and peered through the branches, expecting to see her black stilettos. But instead, a pair of black boots appeared at the top of the stairs. I frowned. Why would Mom be wearing boots?

   She wouldn’t, I realized. For a second, I thought that it must be Annabella, coming home late after sneaking out to meet her friends, but then I noticed that the boots were far too large to belong to her. I froze, then slowly looked up through the branches, my mind finally putting the pieces together.

   Someone was in our house.

   The boots stepped forward, and a tall man emerged out of the shadows. He was dressed all in black, with black gloves and a black ski mask covering his head and face.

   An intruder was in our house.

   That horrible thought kept rattling around inside my brain, with questions popping up beside it, like holiday lights blazing to life one after another. What was this man doing here? Was this a . . . robbery?

   Several houses in the neighborhood had been robbed in recent weeks, folks coming home from parties and other late nights out to find that someone had broken in while they were gone and had stolen all the presents from beneath their trees, just like the Grinch in that old holiday cartoon.

   I held my breath, wondering what the man could possibly steal, since we hadn’t put any of our presents out yet. Or maybe he was here for my mom’s jewelry, some of the antique knickknacks in the house, or even the stacks of money piled in her office safe. He stepped forward and dropped his hand down to his side.

   That’s when I saw the gun.

   My eyes widened, and my breath caught in my throat. Not here to steal—here to kill.

   All around me, the stones of our mansion whispered, but the vain, happy trills of the partygoers’ gemstones had been replaced by dark, harsh mutters. Whoever the gunman was, he was dangerous, and his evil intentions were brutal enough to have already left emotional vibrations in the stone.

   The man walked over to the tree and stopped, as though he was admiring the decorations. I clapped my hands over my mouth to hold back the scream rising in my throat and shrank back against the wall, desperately wishing that I could melt into it and escape out the other side.

   But all I could do was stay as still and quiet as a mouse, hoping that he wouldn’t look down at the floor and spot me through the thick branches, silver tinsel, and twinkling lights. The scent of pine sap, which had been so pleasant before, now seemed like poison sliding down my throat, choking me from the inside out.

   Finally, the man stepped away from the tree and left the family area behind. He stopped in the middle of the hallway, as if he was unsure where to go. Then he started forward again, and I realized that he was walking toward Annabella’s and Bria’s bedrooms.

   The thought of the gunman hurting my sisters cut through some of my panic, and anger sparked in place of my fear. He wasn’t going to hurt them. Not if I could help it. I chewed my lip. But what could I do against a guy with a gun? I didn’t know, but I had to do something, even if it was only run away, find my mom, and warn her what was happening. Then again, she could be asleep too, and I could be the only one who realized that the intruder was in the house.

   So it was up to me to stop him.

   I waited until the gunman had moved deeper into the hallway, then slowly wiggled out from behind the branches. I crouched by the side of the tree and eased forward, looking into the hallway beyond. The man slowed, as if counting the doors that lined the walls and trying to decide which one he wanted to enter.

   I glanced over at the stairs, hoping that my mom would suddenly appear, come running up here, and blast him with her Ice magic, but she didn’t. In fact, I didn’t hear any movement anywhere in the house.